j  Mrs.  W.  0.  Mendenhall,  • 
1412  University  Ave.,  ' 
Wichita,  Kansas  • 

1 

• 
1 
• 
1 

1 

A  MAN'S  HEARTH 


I 


ELSIE  FELT  THE  GLANCE  PASS  ACROSS  HEtt  AND  BEST  ON  ANTHONY 

Page  223 


A  MAN'S  HEARTH 


BY 

ELEANOR  M.  INGRAM 

AUTHOR  OF 
'FBOM  THE  CAB  BEHIND,"  "THE  UNAFRAID,"  «TC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLOR  BY 

EDMUND  FREDERICK 


PHILADELPHIA  &  LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 
1915 


COPYRIGHT,    IPIS,   BY  J.    B.  LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY 


PUBLISHED   OCTOBER    191$ 


PBINTED  BY  J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

AT  TUB  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA,    U.  8.  A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    TONT  ADRIANCB "  MILLIONS,  You  KNOW  ! ". .      9 

II.    His  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE 27 

III.  THE  GIRL  OUTSIDE 45 

IV.  THH  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED 55 

V.    THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE 77 

VI.    THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE 96 

VII.  THE  DARING  ADVENTURE 109 

VIII.  ANDT  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS 110 

IX.  THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOUSE 144 

X.  MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA 155 

XI.  THE  GLOWING  HEARTH 173 

XII.  THE  UPPER  TRAIL 184 

XIII.  WHAT  TONT  BUILT 203 

XIV.  THE  CABARET  DANCER 215 

XV.    THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD 229 

XVI.    THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  OP  THE  SEA 243 

XVII.    RUSSIAN  MIKE  AND  MAITRE  RAOUL  GALVEZ 261 

XVIII.    THECHALLENGE 271 

XIX.    THE  ADRIANCES .283 

XX.    THB  CORNERSTONE 308 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGB 

Elsie  felt  the  Glance  pass  across  Her  and  Rest  on  Anthony 

Frontispiece 

There  Would  Have  Been  no  more  Bedtime  Romps  for 
Masterson  and  His  Son 71 

The  Winter  was  Hard  and  Long,  but  Never  Dull  to  Them. .  173 


A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

CHAPTER  I 

TONY  ADBIANCE — "MILLIONS,  You  KNOW!" 

THE  man  who  had  taken  shelter  in  the  stone 
pavilion  hesitated  before  taking  a  place  on  the 
curved  bench  before  him.  He  had  the  air  of 
awaiting  some  sign  of  welcome  or  dismissal  from 
the  seat 's  occupant ;  receiving  none,  he  sat  down 
and  turned  his  gaze  toward  the  broad  Drive, 
where  people  were  scattering  before  the  sud- 
den flurry  of  rain.  It  suggested  spring  rather 
than  autumn,  this  shower  that  had  swept  out  of 
a  wind-blown  cloud  and  was  already  passing. 

After  a  moment  he  drew  a  cigar-case  from 
his  pocket,  then  paused.  Obviously,  he  was  not 
familiar  with  the  etiquette  of  the  public  parks, 
with  their  freedom  and  lack  of  formalities.  He 
was  beside  a  woman — a  girl.  He  had  no  wish 
to  be  inconsiderate,  yet,  to  speak — in  suspicious, 
sardonic  New  York — that  was  to  invite  miscon- 
struction, or  a  flirtation.  Still 

1 '  May  I  smoke  V '  he  suddenly  and  brusquely 
shot  his  question. 

9 


10  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  girl  turned  towards  him.  Her  eyes  were 
as  gray  as  the  rain;  heavily  shadowed  by  their 
lashes,  their  expression  had  a  misted  aloofness 
suggesting  thoughts  hastily  recalled  from  re- 
mote distances.  He  realized  that  he  might  have 
come,  smoked,  and  gone  without  drawing  her 
notice  any  more  than  a  blowing  leaf.  She  was 
not  a  beauty,  but  he  liked  the  clearing  frank- 
ness of  the  glance  with  which  she  judged  him, 
and  judged  aright.  He  liked  it,  too,  that  she  did 
not  smile,  and  that  her  steadfast  regard  showed 
neither  invitation  nor  hostility. 

'  l  Thank  you, ' '  she  answered.    ' '  Please  do. ' ' 

The  form  of  her  reply  seemed  to  him  pecul- 
iarly gracious  and  unexpected,  as  if  she  gave 
with  both  hands  instead  of  doling  out  the  merely 
necessary.  He  never  had  known  a  woman  who 
gave ;  they  always  took,  in  his  experience.  Un- 
consciously he  lifted  his  hat  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  tone  rather  than  the  permission.  That 
was  all,  of  course.  She  returned  to  her  study  of 
river  and  sky,  while  he  drew  out  his*  cigar.  But 
afterward  he  looked  at  her,  unobtrusively. 

She  was  dressed  altogether  in  black,  but  not 


TONY  ADRIANCE  11 

the  black  of  mourning,  lie  judged.  The  costume, 
plain  but  not  shabby,  conventional  without  be- 
ing up-to-date,  touched  him  with  a  vague  sense 
of  familiarity,  yet  escaped  recognition.  It 
should  have  told  him  something  of  her,  but  it 
did  not,  except  that  she  had  not  much  money  for 
frocks.  He  was  only  slightly  interested;  he 
might  not  have  glanced  her  way  again  if  he 
had  not  been  struck  by  her  rapt  absorption  in 
the  sunset  panorama  before  them.  She  had  gone 
back  to  that  place  of  thought  from  which  his 
speech  had  called  her;  withdrawn  from  all 
around  her  as  one  who  goes  into  a  secret  room 
and  closes  a  door  against  the  world.  And  she 
looked  happy,  or  at  least  serenely  at  peace  with 
her  dreams.  The  man  sighed  with  envious  im- 
patience, striving  to  follow  her  gaze  and  share 
the  enchantment. 

The  enchantment  was  not  for  him.  The  brief 
storm  had  left  tumbled  masses  of  purple  cloud 
hanging  in  the  deep-rose  tinted  sky,  in  airy 
mockery  and  imitation  of  the  purplish  wall  of 
the  Palisades  standing  knee-deep  in  the  rosy 
waters  of  the  Hudson.  Along  the  crest  of  the 
great  rock  walls  lights  blossomed  like  flowers 


12  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

through  the  violet  mist,  at  the  walls '  base  half- 
seen  buildings  flashed  with  lighted  windows.  He 
saw  that  it  was  all  very  pretty,  but  he  had  seen 
it  so  a  hundred  times  without  especial  emotion. 

His  cigar  was  finished,  yet  the  girl  had  not 
once  moved.  Abruptly,  as  before,  he  spoke  to 
her,  as  he  moved  to  leave. 

"What  are  you  looking  at?"  he  demanded. 
"Oh,  I'm  not  trying  to  be  impertinent — I  would 
like  to  know  what  you  see  worth  while?  You 
have  not  moved  for  half  an  hour.  I  wish  you 
could  show  me  something  worth  that." 

Again  she  turned  and  considered  him  with 
grave  attention.  His  tired  young  face  bore  the 
scrutiny ;  she  answered  him. 

"I  am  seeing  all  the  things  I  have  not  got." 

"Over  there?" 
.     She  yielded  his  lack  of  imagination. 

"Well,  yes;  over  there.  Don't  you  know  it 
is  always  Faeryland — the  place  over  there  ?  " 

"  It  is  only  Jersey —  ? ' r 

She  corrected  him. 

1  ( The  place  out  of  reach.  The  place  between 
which  and  ourselves  flows  a  river,  or  rises  a  cliff. 
One  can  imagine  anything  to  be  there.  See  that 


TONY   ADRIANCE  13 

grim,  unreal  castle,  there  in  the  shadows,  its 
windows  all  gleaming  with  light  from  within. 
iWell,  it  is  a  factory  where  they  make  soap- 
powder,  but  from  here  I  can  see  Fair  Rosamond 
leaning  from  its  arched  windows,  if  I  choose,  or 
armored  and  plumed  knights  riding  into  its 
gates." 

' '  Oh ! ' '  Disappointment  made  the  exclama- 
tion listless.  "Story-making,  you  were?  I  am 
afraid  I  can't  see  that  way,  thank  you ;  I  haven't 
the  head  for  it. " 

For  the  first  time  she  smiled,  with  a  warm 
lighting  of  her  rain-gray  eyes  and  a  Madonna- 
like  protectiveness  of  expression.  He  felt  as 
distinct  an  impression  as  if  she  had  laid  her 
hand  on  his  arm  with  an  actual  touch  of 
sympathy. 

"But  I  do  not  see  that  way,  either,"  she  ex- 
plained. "That  was  an  illustration.  I  mean 
that  one  can  make  pictures  there  of  all  the  real 
things  that  are  not  real  for  one's  self;  at  least, 
not  yet  real.  It  is  a  game  to  play,  I  suppose, 
while  one  waits. " 

"I  do  not  understand." 

She  made  a  gesture  of  resignation,  and  was 


14  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

mute.  He  comprehended  that  confidence  would 
go  no  farther. 

"Thank  you,"  he  accepted  the  rebuke.  "It 
was  good  of  you  to  put  up  with  my  curiosity 
and — not  to  misunderstand  my  speaking. ' y 

* '  Oh,  no !  I  hate  to  misunderstand,  ever ;  it  is 
so  stupid." 

Although  he  had  risen,  he  did  not  go  at  once. 
The  evening  colors  faded,  first  from  river,  then 
from  sky.  With  autumn's  suddenness,  dusk 
swept  down.  Playing  children,  groups  of  young 
people  and  promenaders  passed  by  the  little 
pavilion  in  a  gay  current ;  automobiles  multiplied 
with  the  homing  hour  of  the  city.  New  York 
thought  of  dining,  simply  or  superbly,  as 
might  be. 

The  silent  tete-a-tete  in  the  pavilion  was 
broken  by  the  softest  sound  in  the  world — a 
baby's  drowsy,  gurgling  chuckle  of  awakening. 
Instantly  the  girl  in  black  started  from  revery, 
and  then  the  man  first  noticed  that  a  white-and- 
gold  baby  carriage  stood  at  her  end  of  the 
curved  seat.  Astonished,  incredulous,  he  saw 
her  throw  back  miniature  coverlets  of  frost- 
white  eiderdown  and  bend  over  the  little  face, 


TONY  ADRIANCE  15 

pink  as  a  hollyhock,  nestled  there.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  he  witnessed  the  pretty  byplay  of 
the  nursery— dropped  kisses,  the  answering 
pats  of  chubby,  useless  hands,  love-words  and 
replying  baby  speech,  inarticulate,  adorable. 

The  scene  struck  deeply  into  inner  places  of 
thought  he  had  never  known  lay  at  the  back  of 
consciousness.  He  never  had  thought  very  pro- 
foundly, until  the  last  few  weeks.  And  even  yet 
he  was  struggling,  turning  in  a  mental  circle  of 
doubt,  rather  than  thinking.  The  girl  and  the 
child  flung  open  a  door  through  which  he 
glimpsed  strange  vistas,  startling  in  their  for- 
bidden possibilities.  He  stood  watching,  dumb, 
until  she  turned  to  him.  Her  face  was  kindled 
and  laughing;  she  looked  infinitely  candid  and 
good.  But — she  looked  maid,  not  mother. 
Somehow  he  felt  that. 

"You  are  married ?"  he  questioned,  almost 
roughly.  "I  did  not  suppose You  are  mar- 
ried, then  ? ' ' 

Into  her  expression  swept  scorn  for  his  dul- 
ness,  compassion  for  his  ignorance,  fused  by  the 
flaring  fire  of  some  intense  feeling  far  beyond 
his  ken. 


16  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

" Married?    No.    Or  I  would  not  be  here! " 
"Why?    Where  would  you  be?" 
The  baby  was  standing  upright  in  its  coach. 
The  girl  passed  an  arm  about  the  tottering  form 
to  steady  the  fat  little  feet,  and  retorted  on  her 
questioner. 

"Where?  Home,  of  course,  making  ready 
for  my  man !  If  I  lived  there,  ' ' — with  a  gesture 
toward  the  tall,  luxurious  apartment  houses  on 
the  Drive,  behind  them,  "I  would  be  choosing 
my  prettiest  frock  and  coiling  my  hair  the  way 
he  liked  best.  If  I  lived  there,  across  the  river 
in  one  of  those  little  houses,  I  would  be  mak- 
ing the  house  bright  with  lamps;  wearing  my 
whitest  apron  and  making  the  supper  hot — very 
hot,  for  there  is  frost  in  the  air  and  he  would 
be  cold  and  tired  and  hungry.  And  I  would  have 
his  chair  ready  and  draw  the  curtains  because 
he  was  inside  and  no  one  else  mattered."  She 
paused,  drawing  a  deep  breath.  ' '  That  is  where 
I  would  be,"  she  concluded,  as  one  patiently  les- 
soning a  dull  pupil,  and  reseated  the  baby  in 
its  coach  in  obvious  preparation  for  departure. 
The  man  had  stood  quite  still,  dazed.  But 
when  she  turned  away,  with  a  bend  of  her  dark 


TONY  ADRIANCE  17 

little  head  by  way  of  farewell,  he  roused  him- 
self and  overtook  her  in  a  stride. 

" Thank  you,"  he  said,  "I  mean  for  letting 
me  know  anyone  could  feel  like  that.  I  suppose 
a  great  many  people  do,  only  I  have  not  met 
that  kind?  No,  never  mind  answering;  how 
should  you  know!  But,  thank  you.  May  I — if  I 
see  you  again — may  I  speak  to  youf" 

She  surveyed  him  gravely,  as  if  with  clair- 
voyant ability  to  read  a  history  from  his  face, 
a  face  open-browed  and  planned  for  strength,  by 
its  square  outlines,  but  that  somehow  only  suc- 
ceeded in  being  pleasant  and  passively  agree- 
able. It  was  the  face  of  a  man  who  never  had 
been  brought  against  conflict  or  any  need  for 
stern  decision,  whose  true  character  was  a  sword 
never  yet  drawn  from  the  sheath.  And  now,  he 
was  in  trouble ;  so  much  lay  plain  to  see.  He  was 
in  bitter  trouble  and,  she  guessed,  alone  with  the 
trouble. 

He  stood  in  mute  acceptance  of  her  scrutiny, 
recognizing  her  right,  since  he  had  asked  so 
much.  Before  she  spoke,  he  knew  her  answer, 
seeing  it  foreshadowed  in  the  gray  eyes. 


18  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"If  you  wish,  to  very  much.  But — not  too 
soon  again. ' ' 

She  stepped  from  the  curb,  allowing  no  reply, 
but  without  apparent  haste,  pushing  the  car- 
riage in  which  the  baby  chuckled  and  twisted  to 
peep  back  at  her.  He  watched  her  thread  her 
way  through  the  rushing  lines  of  pleasure 
traffic ;  saw  her  reach  the  other  side  and  disap- 
pear behind  a  knoll  clothed  with  turf  and  ever- 
greens that  rose  between  them.  The  woman 
from  whose  presence  he  had  come  to  this  chance 
encounter  once  had  told  him  that  any  human 
being  looked  absurd  propelling  a  baby-coach. 
He  recalled  that  statement  now,  and  did  not 
find  it  true.  It  was  such  a  sane  thing  to  do,  so 
natural  and  good.  At  least,  it  seemed  so  when 
this  girl  did  it.  He  envied  the  man,  whoever 
he  might  be,  who  did,  or  would  love  her ;  envied 
him  the  clean  simplicity  she  would  make  of  life 
and  the  absence  of  hateful  complications. 

People  were  glancing  curiously  at  his  motion- 
less figure ;  he  aroused  himself  and  walked  on. 
He  had  chosen  his  own  way  of  living,  he  angrily 
told  himself ;  there  was  no  excuse  for  whining  if 
he  did  not  like  the  place  where  free-will  had  led 


TONY  ADRIANCE  19 

him.  Yet — had  lief  Or  had  he,  instead,  been 
trapped?  The  doubt  was  ugly.  He  walked 
faster  to  escape  it,  but  it  ran  at  his  heels  like 
one  of  those  sinister  demon-animals  of  medieval 
legend. 

Across  the  blackening  river  electric  signs 
were  flashing  into  view;  gigantic  affairs  inso- 
lently shouldering  themselves  into  the  unwilling 
attention,  as  indeed  they  were  designed  to  do  by 
Jersey's  desire  for  the  greater  city's  patronage. 
Looking  toward  one  of  these,  the  man  read  it 
with  a  sullen  distaste:  "Adriance's  Paper." 
That  simple  announcement  marked  an  industry, 
even  a  monopoly,  great  enough  to  have  been 
subjected  more  than  once  to  the  futile  investiga- 
tions of  an  uneasy  government. 

The  family  name  was  sufficiently  unusual,  the 
family  fortune  sufficiently  well  known  to  have 
been  bracketted  together  for  him  wherever  he 
had  gone.  In  school,  in  college,  and  later,  always 
he  had  found  a  courier  whisper  running  offi- 
ciously before  him,  "Young  Adriance — paper, 
you  know.  Millions!"  And  always  it  had  led  him 
into  trouble ;  at  twenty-six  he  was  just  commenc- 
ing to  realize  that  fact.  The  trouble  never  had 


20  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

been  very  serious  until  now.  He  never  had 
Committed  anything  his  mother's  church  would 
have  called  a  mortal  sin.  Even  yet  he  stood  only 
on  the  verge  of  commission.  But  he  could  not 
draw  back ;  he  was  like  a  man  being  inexorably 
pushed  into  a  dark  place. 

The  house  toward  which  he  turned  did  not 
arrest  the  eye  by  any  ostentatious  display.  In 
fact,  it  was  remarkable  only  for  being  one  of  the 
very  few  houses  on  lower  Eiverside  Drive  which 
possessed  lawns  and  verandas.  Set  in  a  small 
town,  or  a  suburb,  the  gray  stone  villa  would 
have  been  merely  "very  handsome."  Here,  it 
gained  the  value  of  an  exotic.  To  Anthony 
Adriance,  junior,  as  he  climbed  the  steps  that 
night,  it  seemed  to  stare  arrogantly  from  ita 
score  of  blinking  windows  at  the  glittering  sign 
on  the  opposite  shore.  Cause  and  effect,  they 
duly  acknowledge  each  other.  The  man  paused 
to  glance  at  them  both,  then  let  his  gaze  fall  to 
the  avenue  below  the  terraced  lawn.  That  way 
the  black-gowned  girl  had  gone.  Probably  she 
had  turned  across  into  the  city;  her  dress  was 
hardly  that  of  a  resident  of  the  neighborhood. 

The  man  who  took  his  hat  and  coat  defer- 


TONY  ADRIANCE  21 

entially  breathed  a  message.  Mr.  Adriance  was 
in  the  library  and  desired  to  know  if  his  son 
was  dining  atiome. 

"Yes,"  was  the  prompt,  even  eager  reply. 
* '  Certainly,  if  he  wishes  it.  Or — never  mind ;  I 
will  go  in,  myself." 

The  inquiry  was  unusual.  It  was  not  Mr. 
Adriance 's  habit  to  question  his  son's  move- 
ments. One  might  have  said  they  did  not  in- 
terest him.  He  and  "Tony"  were  very  good 
acquaintances  and  lived  quite  without  friction. 
He  was  too  busy,  too  self-centred  and  ultra- 
modern to  desire  any  warmer  relation.  Affec- 
tion was  a  sentimentality  never  mentioned  in 
that  household ;  a  mutilated  household,  for  Mrs. 
Adriance  had  died  twenty  years  before  Tony's 
majority. 

But  it  was  not  curiosity,  rather  an  odd, 
faintly  nickering  hope  that  lighted  the  younger 
man's  eyes  as  he  entered  the  room  and  returned 
his  father's  nod  of  greeting.  The  two  were  not 
unlike,  at  a  first  glance ;  definitely  good  features : 
eyes  so  dark  that  they  were  frequently  mis- 
taken for  black  instead  of  blue,  upright  figures 
that  made  the  most  of  their  moderate  height, — 


22  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

these  they  had  in  common.  The  great  difference 
between  them  was  in  expression;  the  difference 
between  untempered  and  tempered  metal.  No 
one  would  ever  have  nicknamed  the  elder  An- 
thony "  Tony." 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  dine  with  you,"  the 
younger  Anthony  opened,  at  once.  "I'll  go 
change,  and  be  back.  Were  you  going  to  try  the 
new  Trot  tonight — I  think  you  said  so?" 

"No.  I  had  an  hour  this  afternoon,"  Mr. 
Adriance  stated,  picking  up  a  pen  from  the  table 
and  turning  it  in  his  fingers.  He  had  a  habit  of 
playing  with  small  articles  at  times — to  distract 
his  listener's  attention  rather  than  his  own,  said 
those  who  knew  him  well.  Neither  to  his  son  nor 
to  himself  did  it  occur  as  incongruous  that  he 
should  discuss  a  lesson  in  dancing  with  the  mat- 
ter-of-fact decision  that  made  his  speech  cold  and 
sharp  as  the  crackle  of  a  step  on  a  frost-bound 
road.  "It  is  not  so  difficult  as  the  tango,  though 
more  fatiguing.  Where  had  you  intended  to 
dine,  tonight  ?  At  the  Mastersons '  ?  " 

Tony  Adriance  colored  a  slow,  painful  red 
that  burned  over  face  and  neck  like  a  flame  scar. 

"Fred  asked  me,"  he  made  difficult  work  of 


TONY  ADRIANCE  23 

the  reply.  "I  couldn't  get  out  of  it  very  well, 
but  I  am  glad  of  an  excuse  to  stay  away.  It  is 
early  enough  to  'phone. " 

Mr.  Adriance  turned  the  pen  around. 

"If  Masterson  was  to  be  there,  you  might 
safely  have  gone,"  he  pronounced. 

"If " 

"Exactly.  Dining  with  Mrs.  Masterson  will 
no  longer  do.  Am  I  speaking  to  a  full-grown  man 
or  a  boy?  If  Mrs.  Masterson  chooses  to  get  a 
divorce,  and  you  afterward  marry  her,  very 
good.  It  is  done ;  divorce  is  accepted  among  us. 
But  there  must  be  no  gossip  concerning  the 
lady." 

"There  is  no  cause  for  any,"  retorted  the 
other,  but  the  defense  lacked  fire.  He  looked 
suddenly  haggard,  and  the  shamed  red  scorched 
still  deeper.  "She — isn't  that  kind." 

"No.  She  is  very  clever. ' '  He  laid  down  the 
pen  and  took  up  a  book.  ' '  I  was  cautioning  you. 
Will  you  hurry  your  dressing  a  little?  I  have 
an  early  engagement  down-town  this  evening." 

The  dry  retort  was  not  resented.  The 
younger  man  did  not  retreat,  although  way  was 
shown  to  him.  Since  the  subject  had  been 


24  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

dragged  into  the  open  ground  of  speech,  he  had 
more  to  say,  with  whatever  reluctance. 

"You  don't  seem  to  consider  Fred,"  he 
finally  said. 

"Why  should  If"  Mr.  Adriance  looked  up 
perfunctorily.  "Masterson  is  nothing  to  me. 
You  have  not  considered  him." 

' '  I  have !  At  least,  I  tried  to  stop  this — after 
I  understood.  I  never  meant " 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Mr. 
Adriance  turned  a  page.  The  sentence  was  not 
completed,  but  Tony  Adriance  lingered  as  if 
in  expectation  of  some  reply  to  it;  an  expecta- 
tion half  eager,  half  defiant.  No  reply  was 
made ;  finally  it  became  evident  there  was  to  be 
none. 

"I  thought  you  might  object."  He  forced  a 
laugh  with  the  avowal,  but  his  eyes  denied  the 
lightness.  "Parents  do  in  books  and  plays,  you 

know.  I  thought  you  might  tell  me Oh, 

well,  to  pull  out  of  this  and  bring  home  a  woman 
of  my  own  instead  of  some  other  man's  woman. 
It  isn't  very  pretty!  " 

Mr.  Adriance  looked  up  with  a  certain  curi- 
osity. 


TONY  ADRIANCE  25 

"You  have  a  sentimental  streak,  Tony?  I 
never  suspected  it.  Why  should  I  object  to  an 
affair  so  suitable?  You  have  been  following 
Mrs.  Masterson  about  for  a  year;  she  is  alto- 
gether charming  and  will  make  a  good  hostess 
here — a  great  lack  in  our  household.  I  admire 
her  myself,  more  than  any  debutante  I  ever  saw. 
I  am  very  well  satisfied.  Suppose  you  had 
brought  home  some  milkmaid  romance,  a  wife 
to  stumble  over  the  rugs  and  defer  to  the  ser- 
vants? No,  no;  manage  this  properly,  that  is 
all  my  advice.  Meanwhile,  do  you  know  it  is 
after  seven  o  'clock  ?  Unless  you  hurry ' ' 

"Oh,  I'll  hurry,"  was  the  dry  promise. 
"And  I  am  much  obliged  for  the  advice.  But  I 
fancy  a  good  many  of  us  may  defer  to  the  milk- 
maids, after  we  are  dead." 

He  swung  the  door  shut  with  unnecessary 
force,  as  he  went  out.  While  he  climbed  the 
broad,  darkly-lustrous  stairs,  he  was  aware  that 
his  father  was  turning  another  page  of  the  book ; 
and  as  a  pendant  to  that  picture  had  a  mental 
glimpse  of  Lucille  Masterson,  lovely,  perfect  in 
every  line  of  costume  and  tint  of  color,  waiting 
for  a  man  who  was  not  her  husband.  What 


26  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

would  the  girl  in  black  think  of  that,  he  won- 
dered? Yet  Lucille  was  altogether  beyond  re- 
proach. She  had  every  right  to  contemplate  a 
divorce,  in  view  of  Fred  Masterson's  undoubted 
wildness  and  extravagance.  If  only  she  had  not 
discussed  it  with  him,  Tony  Adriance,  he  thought 
impatiently.  If  only  she  had  announced  her 
intention  to  her  husband  and  the  world,  instead 
of  broaching  it  secretly  to  the  admirer  she  had 
chosen  for  her  second  husband !  It  was  horrible 
to  meet  Masterson  with  this  knowledge  thrust 
like  a  stone  blocking  the  way  of  intercourse. 
Certainly  she  lacked  delicacy. 

Of  course  he  must  go  on  gracefully.  It  was 
very  like  climbing  these  stairs;  one  step  taken 
implied  taking  the  next.  But  he  wished  that  he 
had  not  met  the  girl  in  the  pavilion. 


CHAPTEE  II 
His  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE 

DTJEIXG  the  next  few  days,  Tony  Adriance 
several  times  saw  the  girl  in  black.  But  he  did 
not  venture  to  approach  or  speak  to  her.  It 
was  too  soon;  moreover,  he  was  not  altogether 
certain  that  he  wished  to  be  with  her.  She  was 
too  disturbing,  too  concrete  an  evidence  of  other 
possibilities  in  life  than  those  he  had  been  taught. 
He  remembered  the  story  of  the  Grecian  lake 
that  was  only  muddy  when  stirred.  Probably 
those  who  lived  within  view  of  its  waters  seldom 
"  disturbed  Comarina." 

Nevertheless,  he  always  regarded  the  girl 
with  a  keen  interest  he  could  not  have  explained 
even  to  himself.  He  would  glimpse  her  from  his 
automobile  in  passing,  or  observe  her  from  the 
opposite  sidewalk  as  he  went  in  or  out  of  his 
father's  house.  She  always  had  the  child  with 
her,  and  always  wore  the  same  frock.  Usually, 
she  was  to  be  found  in  the  white  stone  pavilion, 
established  on  the  curved  stone  bench  with  a  bit 
of  sewing  or  a  book.  He  never  had  imagined  so 

27 


88  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

quietly  monotonous  a  life  as  hers  seemed  to  be. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  the  first  week  after  their 
meeting  that  Adriance,  riding  slowly  along  the 
bridle-path  through  the  park,  saw  an  itinerant 
vendor  of  toy  balloons  and  pinwheels  wander 
into  the  pavilion  where  girl  and  baby  were 
ensconced. 

The  sunlight  glittered  bravely  on  the  gaudy 
colors  of  fluted  paper  wheels,  the  plump  striped 
sides  of  bobbing  globes,  and  the  sleepy,  brown 
face  of  the  Syrian  pedler  who  mutely  presented 
his  wares.  The  girl  lifted  her  smiling  eyes  to 
meet  the  man's  questioning  glance,  and  shook  her 
head  with  a  pretty  gesture  that  somehow  implied 
admiration  and  a  gay  friendliness  which  made 
her  refusal  more  gracious  than  another's  pur- 
chase. The  pedler  smiled,  also,  and  lingered  to 
hoist  the  straps  supporting  his  tray  into  a  new 
position  upon  his  bent,  velveteen-clad  shoulders, 
before  moving  on  his  way. 

The  baby  had  not  been  consulted.  But  his 
attention  had  been  none  the  less  enchained. 
Those  pink  and  yellow  things  set  spinning  by 
the  fresh  morning  breeze,  those  red  balloons  tug- 
ging at  their  cords  like  unwilling  captives 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  29 

hungry  for  the  clear  upper  spaces  of  blue — to 
see  all  this  radiance  departing  was  too  much! 
He  spread  wide  both  chubby  arms  and  plunged 
in  pursuit. 

"Holly!"  the  girl  cried,  arresting  his  flight 
from  the  coach.  ' '  Why,  Holly  f ' ' 

Holly  hurled  himself  into  magnificent  rage. 
Halted  by  the  outburst,  the  Syrian  turned  back 
with  an  air  of  experienced  victory. 

"Now  you  buy?"  he  interrogated. 

The  girl  shook  her  head,  struggling  to 
appease  the  young  insurrectionist. 

"No  no.  Please  go  away,  and  he  will 
forget." 

The  man  took  a  step  away.  The  baby's 
screams  redoubled;  he  stamped  with  small,  fat 
feet  and  brandished  small,  fat  fists. 

"You  buy?"  the  pedler  blandly  insisted. 

"No!"  the  girl  panted.  "Please  do  go.  I 
cannot;  I  have  no  money  with  me.  Holly, 
dear !" 

Adriance  had  found  a  boy  to  hold  his  horse, 
and  came  up  in  time  to  overhear  the  last  state- 
ment. He  halted  the  Syrian  with  a  gesture. 

"I  have,"  he  made  his  presence  known  to 


SO  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

the  combatants.  " Won't  you  let  me  gratify  a 
fellowman?  Here,  bring  those  things  nearer. 
Which  shall  it  be,  young  chap — or  both!" 

The  girl  turned  to  him  with  candid  relief 
warming  her  surprise. 

*  *  Oh ! ' '  she  exclaimed  her  recognition.  ' '  You 
are  very  good.  I  am  afraid,  really  afraid  it 
will  have  to  be  both.  Oh !" 

Holly  had  deliberately  lunged  forward  and 
clutched  a  double  handful  of  the  alluring  wares. 

By  the  time  calm  was  re-established  and 
the  amused  Adriance  had  paid,  it  seemed  alto- 
gether natural  that  he  should  take  his  place  on 
the  seat  beside  the  girl;  as  natural  as  the  ped- 
ler's  placid  departure.  Holly  lay  back  on  his 
cushions  in  vast  content,  two  balloons  floating 
from  their  tethers  at  the  foot  of  his  coach  and 
a  pinwheel  clasped  in  his  hand. 

"I  should  like  to  say  that  he  is  not  often 
like  this,"  remarked  the  girl,  gathering  together 
her  scattered  sewing.  "But  he  likes  having  his 
own  way  as  much  as  Mait'  Raoul  G-alvez;  and 
everyone  knows  what  he  raised." 

"I  don't,"  Adriance  confessed.  He  noticed 
for  the  first  time  a  softening  of  her  words,  not 


X 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  31 

enough  to  be  called  an  accent,  far  less  a  lisp,  but 
yet  a  trick  of  speech  unfamiliar  to  him.  *  'What 
did  he  raise?" 

"Satan,"  she  gravely;  told  him,  "Mait* 
Raoul  knew  more  about  voodooism  and  black 
magic  than  any  white  man  ever  should.  It  is 
said  he  vowed  that  he  would  have  the  devil  up 
in  person  to  play  cards  with  him,  or  never  be 
content  on  earth  or  under  it.  And  he  did, 
although  he  knew  well  enough  Satan  never  gam- 
bles except  for  souls." 

"Who  won?" 

"Satan  did.  Yet  he  lost  again,  for  Mait' 
Raoul  tricked  him  in  the  contract  so  cleverly 
that  it  did  not  bind  and  the  soul  was  free.  There 
is  a  great  split  rock  near  Galvez  Bayou  where 
they  say  the  demon  stamped  in  his  rage  so 
fiercely  the  stone  burst." 

"Then  Maitre  Eaoul  escaped  Hades,  after 
all?" 

"Oh,  no!  He  went  there,  but  merely  as  a 
point  of  honor.  He  was  a  gambler,  but  he 
always  paid  his  losses." 

Adriance  laughed,  yet  winced  a  little,  too.  A 
baffled,  helpless  bitterness  darkened  across  his 


32  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

expression,  as  it  had  done  on  the  evening  of 
their  first  meeting.  He  looked  down  at  the  pave- 
ment as  if  in  fear  of  accidentally  encountering 
his  companion's  clear  glance. 

"I  never  read  that  story,"  he  acknowledged. 
"Thank  you." 

'  *  I  fancy  it  never  was  written, ' '  she  returned. 
"There  is  a  song  about  it;  a  sleepy,  creepy 
song  which  should  never  be  sung  between  mid- 
night and  dawn." 

He  watched  her  draw  the  thread  in  and  out, 
for  a  space.  She  was  embroidering  an  intricate 
monogram  in  the  centre  of  a  square  of  fine  linen, 
working  with  nice  exactitude  and  daintiness. 

"What  is  it?"  he  wondered,  finally. 

Her  glance  traced  the  direction  of  his. 

"A  net  for  goldfish,"  she  replied. 

It  was  not  until  long  afterward  he  under- 
stood she  had  told  him  that  she  sold  her  work. 

The  river  glittered,  breaking  into  creamy 
furrows  of  foam  under  the  ploughing  traffic. 
The  sunshine  was  warm  and  sank  through 
Adriance  with  a  lulling  sense  of  physical  pleas- 
ure and  tranquil  laziness.  How  bright  and 
clean  a  world  he  seemed  to  view,  seated  here! 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  33 

He  felt  a  pang  of  longing,  keen  as  pain,  when 
he  thought  that  he  might  have  had  such  content 
as  this  as  an  abiding  state,  instead  of  a  brief 
respite.  How  had  he  come  to  shut  himself  away 
from  peace,  all  unaware?  How  was  it  that  he 
never  had  valued  the  colorless  blessing,  until  it 
was  lost? 

After  a  while  he  fell  to  envying  Maitre  Eaoul, 
who  had  gone  to  the  devil  honorably. 

A  long  sigh  from  Holly,  slumbering  amid  his 
trophies,  awoke  Adriance  to  realization  that 
his  companion  possessed  the  gift  of  being  silent 
gracefully.  He  had  not  spoken  to  her  for  quite 
half  an  hour,  yet  she  appeared  neither  bored  nor 
offended,  but  as  if  she  had  been  engaged  in  fol- 
lowing out  some  pleasant  theme  of  meditation. 
A  sparrow  tilted  and  preened  itself  on  the  rail, 
not  a  yard  from  her  bent,  dark  head.  Over 
at  the  curbstone,  the  boy  who  guarded 
Adriance 's  horse  had  slipped  the  bridle  over  one 
arm  and  was  playing  marbles  with  two  cheerful 
comrades  who  made  calculated  allowances  for 
his  handicap,  based  on  his  coming  reward  from 
the  rider. 


\ 

34  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

* ' 1  am  afraid  I  am  very  dull, '  ?  Adriance  pres- 
ently offered  vague  apology. 

"Are  you?" 

"I  mean,  I  am  not  entertaining." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  from  her  sewing  to  re- 
gard him  with  delicate  raillery. 

"No.  If  you  had  been  the  entertaining  sort 
of  person,  I  could  never  have  let  you  talk  to 
me,"  she  said.  "But  I  think  you  had  better  go, 
please,  now.  Two  imported  nursemaids  in  bat- 
wing  cloaks  have  been  glowering  at  us  for  some 
time  as  it  is.  Holly  and  I  shall  be  grateful  to 
you  a  thousand  years  for  this  morning's 
rescue." 

He  rose  reluctantly,  with  a  feeling  of  being 
ejected  from  the  only  serene  spot  on  earth. 

"Thank  you  for  letting  me  stay,"  he  an- 
swered. "You  are  very  kind.  I " 

His  lowered  glance  had  encountered  her 
little  feet,  demurely  crossed  under  the  edge  of 
her  sober  skirt.  They  were  very  small,  serious 
shoes  indeed ;  not  a  touch  of  the  day's  capricious 
fancy  in  decoration  relieved  them.  But  what 
struck  to  the  man's  heart  was  their  brave  black- 
ness, the  blackness  of  polish  that  could  not  quite 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  35 

conceal  that  they  had  been  mended.  Of  course, 
he  at  once  looked  away,  but  the  impression 
remained. 

"I  hope  Holly  will  not  imitate  Mait'  Eaoul 
any  more, ' '  he  finished  lamely. 

The  girl  frankly  turned  to  watch  him  ride 
away.  Her  natural  interest  seemed  to  the  man 
more  modest  than  any  pose  of  indifference. 

But  it  seemed  that  she  was  appointed  by 
Chance  to  make  Tony  Adriance  dissatisfied  and 
restive.  It  was  altogether  absurd,  but  the  fanci- 
ful legend  she  had  told  him  taunted  and  hunted 
his  sullen  thoughts.  He  took  it  with  him  to 
his  home,  when  he  changed  into  suitable  attire 
to  keep  a  luncheon  engagement  with  Mrs.  Mas- 
ters on.  It  still  accompanied  him  when  he  en- 
tered the  great  apartment  house  where  the 
Mastersons  lived. 

He  had  not  wanted  to  act  as  Lucille  Master- 
son's  escort  on  this  occasion.  His  attendance 
had  been  skilfully  compelled.  But  now  he  hated 
the  duty  so  much  that  he  was  dangerously  near 
rebellion.  He  hesitated  on  the  threshold  of  the 
building,  half  inclined  not  to  enter;  to  go,  in- 


36  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

stead,  to  a  telephone  and  excuse  himself  for 
desertion  on  some  pretext. 

It  was  too  late.  Already  the  door  was  held 
open  for  him  by  a  footman  whose  discreetly 
familiar  smile  Adriance  saw,  and  resented.  He 
winced  again  when  the  elevator  boy  stopped  at 
the  Mastersons '  floor  without  being  told,  imply- 
ing the  impossibility  of  Mr.  Adriance 's  call  being 
intended  for  any  other  household.  He  never 
had  noticed  these  things  before;  now,  he  felt 
himself  disgracefully  exposed  before  these 
black  men. 

He  was  altogether  in  a  mood  of  bitter  exas- 
peration, when  he  was  ushered  into  Mrs.  Mas- 
terson's  little  drawing-room.  He  recognized 
this  condition  with  a  vague  sense  of  surprise  at 
himself  underlying  the  dominant  emotion.  All 
his  life  he  had  been  singularly  even-tempered. 
Now  he  combated  a  wish  to  say  ugly,  caustic 
things  to  the  woman  who  had  brought  him  here. 
He  did  not  want  to  see  her. 

Yet  she  was  very  pleasant  to  see.  Indeed, 
both  the  scene  and  his  hostess  were  charming, 
as  they  met  his  view.  Mrs.  Masterson  was 
standing  before  a  long  mirror,  surveying  her- 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  37 

self,  so  that  Adriance  saw  her  twice;  once  in 
fact,  and  once  as  a  reflection.  Sunlight  filled 
the  room,  which  was  furnished  and  draped  in 
a  curious  shade  of  deep  blue  with  a  shimmering 
richness!  of  color,  so  that  the  lady's  gray-clad 
figure  stood  out  in  clear  and  precise  detail. 
But  Mrs.  Masterson  could  bear  that  strong 
light,  and  knew  it.  Without  turning,  she  smiled 
into  the  mirror  toward  the  man  whose  image  she 
saw  there. 

"How  do  you  like  the  last  Viennese  fancy, 
Tony?"  she  composedly  greeted  him. 

Her  voice  was  not  one  of  her  good  points. 
It  was  naturally  too  high-pitched  and  harsh,  and 
although  by  careful  training  she  had  accus- 
tomed herself  to  speak  with  a  suppressed  even- 
ness of  tone  that  smothered  the  defect  to  most 
ears,  there  resulted  a  lack  of  expression 
or  modulation  perilously  near  monotony. 
Adriance  listened  now,  with  a  fresh  sense  of 
irritation,  to  the  fault  he  only  had  observed  re- 
cently. Before  answering,  he  surveyed  criti- 
cally the  decided  lines  of  the  costume  offered 
for  his  approval;  its  audacious  little  waistcoat 
of  cerise-and-black  checked  velvet,  the  diminu- 


38  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

tive  hat  that  seemed  to  have  alighted  like  a 
butterfly  on  the  shining  yellow  hair  brushed 
smoothly  back  from  Mrs.  Masterson's  pink 
ears,  and  the  high-buttoned  gray  boots  with  a 
silk  tassel  pendant  at  each  ankle.  Those  ex- 
quisite and  costly  boots  taunted  him  with  their 
sharp  contrast  to  those  he  had  studied  an  hour 
before;  they  spurred  him  on  to  rudeness  as  if 
actual  rowels  were  affixed  to  their  little  French 
heels. 

"The  skirt  is  too  extreme, "  he  stated  per- 
versely. 

"They  are  going  to  be  so;  this  is  quite  a 
bit  in  advance,"  she  returned.  "Do  you  like 
it?" 

"Not  so  well!  It  makes  a  woman  look  like 
a  child;  except  for  her  face." 

Lucille  Masterson's  tact  was  often  at  fault 
from  her  lack  of  humor.  Instead  of  retorting 
with  laughter  or  silence,  she  opposed  offence  to 
his  wilfulness. 

* '  Thank  you, ' '  she  answered  f  reezingly.  '  *  I 
seem  to  have  aged  rather  suddenly." 

"You  know  well  enough  how  handsome  you 
are,"  he  said,  a  trifle  ashamed.  "Of  course  I 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  39 

did  not  mean  what  you  imply.    But,  after  all, 
we  are  not  children,  Lucille,  either  of  us.    We 

are  a  man  and  a  woman  who  are  going " 

•       "Well?" 

"To  gather  a  rather  nasty  apple!"  He 
forced  a  smile  to  temper  the  statement. 

She  slowly  turned  around  and  regarded  him. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded,  lift- 
ing her  narrow,  arched  eyebrows.  ' '  My  costume 
trottoir,  and  apples ?  Aren't  you  consider- 
ably confused,  Tony?" 

"Can't  we  at  least  face  what  we  are  doing?" 
he  countered.  "If  we  are  able  to  do  a  thing,  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  look  at  it,  surely.  We  can 
put  through  this  thing,  and  our  friends  will 
think  none  the  less  of  us ;  they  are  that  kind. 
But  they  are  not  all  the  people  on  earth,  you 
know.  What  the  maid  who  brushes  your  gown 
or  the  man  who  opens  the  door  for  me  says  of  us 
downstairs  may  come  nearer  the  general  opin- 
ion. Perhaps  we  would  better  have  considered 
that.  For  I  am  afraid  the  majority  of  the  white 
man's  world  cannot  be  altogether  wrong." 

There  was  a  quality  in  his  voice  that  alarmed 
her.  He  had  flung  himself  into  a  chair  beside 


40  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

her  desk,  and  sat  nervously  moving  back  and 
forth  the  trinkets  nearest  his  hand.  She  stood 
quite  still,  studying  him  before  committing  her- 
self by  a  reply.  This  was  a  Tony  Adriance 
strange  to  her. 

"It  seems  very  cowardly,  to  me,  to  be  afraid 
of  what  people  will  say,"  she  slowly  answered. 
"And  I  will  not  have  you  speak  to  me  as  if  I 
were  a  wicked  woman,  Tony.  You  know  that  I 
am  not.  You  know  I  have  borne  with  Fred's 
neglect  and  extravagance  much  longer  than 
other  women  would." 

He  flushed  dark-red  at  the  taunt  of  cowardice, 
but  he  spoke  doggedly,  tenacious  of  his  pur- 
pose. 

"You  could  not  give  Fred  another  chance? 
You  remember,  he  and  I  were  friends,  once.  He 
has  played  too  much  with  the  stock  market. 
Well,  I  might  get  my  father  to  help  him  there ; 
we  might  fix  it  so  that  he  won  sometimes,  in- 
stead of  lost.  You  do  not  know  how  hard  it  is 
for  me  to  come  into  Fred's  house  this  way." 

A  flash  of  blended  anger  and  fear  crossed 
Mrs.  Masterson's  large,  light-colored  eyes. 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  41 

"Is  it?"  she  doubted,  cuttingly.  "You  have 
been  coming  here  for  a  whole  year,  Tony. ' ' 

She  had  found  the  one  retort  he  could  not 
answer.  Adriance  opened  his  lips,  then  closed 
them  with  a  grim  recognition  of  defeat.  "Who 
would  believe  he  had  come  here  innocently? 
How  could  he  tell  this  beautiful  and  sophisti- 
cated woman  that  he  had  been  vaguely,  romanti- 
cally charmed  by  her  without  ever  dreaming 
of  any  issue  to  the  affair  or  of  letting  her  sus- 
pect his  mild  sentimentality?  How  could  he 
hope  she  would  credit  the  tale,  if  he  did  tell 
her? 

She  had  been  watching  his  changing  expres- 
sion; herself  paled  by  a  very  genuine  dread. 
Now,  suddenly  she  was  beside  him,  her  hands 
on  his  shoulders. 

"Don't  you  love  me  any  more,  Tony?  You 

come  in  here  to-day  and  rage  at  me !  Have 

you  taught  me  for  months  to  need  you  and  count 
on  you  for  all  the  future,  only  to  leave  me, 
now  ?  Oh,  I  believed  you  were  strong  and  true ! ' ' 

A  caress  from  her  was  so  rare  an  event,  so 
unfamiliar  a  concession,  that  her  mere  nearness 
fired  Adriance.  Her  fragrant  face  was  close  to 


42  A  MAN'S  HEAKTH 

his ;  lie  looked  into  her  eyes,  like  jewels  under 
water,  suffused  by  her  terror  of  losing  him. 

His  kiss  was  her  victory.  Instantly  she  was 
away  from  him ;  half  across  the  room  and  send- 
ing furtive  glances  toward  the  curtained  door- 
ways, even  toward  the  windows  five  stories 
above  the  street.  The  guilt  implied  in  the  action 
made  it  to  Adriance  as  if  a  hand  had  struck 
the  kiss  from  his  lips. 

""We  must  be  careful,"  she  cautioned. 
* '  Suppose  someone  were  coming  in  ?  You  didn 't 
mean  all  that,  Tony?  You  love  me  as  much 
as  ever?" 

Adriance  moved  toward  her. 

"I  won't  answer  that  in  Masterson's  house," 
he  said,  his  voice  shaken.  "Lucille,  you  have 
got  to  do  now  what  I  asked  you  to  do  weeks 
ago :  you  must  leave  here  at  once  and  marry  me 
as  soon  as  it  can  be  done.  Since  we  have  begun 
this  thing,  we  must  carry  it  through  as  decently 
as  possible.  And  it  is  not  decent  for  you  to 
stay  here  or  for  me  to  come  here.  If  you  come 
with  me  now,  to-day,  I  will  put  you  with  someone 
who  can  act  as  chaperon  until  the  divorce  is 
obtained;  one  of  my  aunts,  perhaps.  If  you 


HIS  NEIGHBOR'S  WIFE  43 

do  this,  and  help  me  to  keep  what  honestly  is 
left,  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  never  will  fail 
you  as  long  as  I  live,  come  what  may." 

She  drew  back  from  his  vehemence.  Assured 
of  herself  and  him,  now,  she  permitted  a  frown 
to  tangle  her  fair  brow  in  half -amused  rebuke. 

"My  dear  boy,  what  a  dramatic  tirade!  Of 
course  I  will  come  to  you  the  first  moment  pos- 
sible— but,  to-day?  And  just  now  you  were 
deprecating  gossip!  You  must  let  me  arrange 
this  affair.  I  am  not  ready  to  leave  Fred,  yet. 
Do  you  not  understand?  I  must  wait  until  he 
makes  another  one  of  his  scenes ;  I  must  have  a 
fresh  reason  for  going,  not  a  past  one  already 
tacitly  overlooked." 

"You  will  not  come!" 

She  turned  from  his  darkened  face  to  the 
mirror. 

"You  really  are  very  selfish,  Tony.  Pray 
think  a  little  of  me  instead  of  yourself.  But  I 
will  try  to  do  as  you  wish ;  next  month,  perhaps. 
I  could  go  to  Florida  for  the  winter." 

Adriance  sat  down  again  beside  the  desk  and 
took  a  cigarette  from  a  small  lacquered  tray 
that  stood  there.  He  was  beaten,  but  he  was  not 


44  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

submissive.  He  bent  his  head  to  the  yoke  with  a 
bitter,  sick  reluctance.  Yet  he  understood  that 
it  was  too  late  to  draw  out.  Lucille  loved  him ; 
whether  intentionally  or  not,  he  had  won  her. 
No,  he  must  finish  what  he  had  begun. 

The  cigarette  was  perfumed,  and  nauseated 
him.  He  dropped  it  into  an  ash-receiver,  but  it 
had  given  him  a  moment  to  steady  himself. 
After  all,  Masters  on  did  neglect  his  wife.  If 
he  could  not  keep  his  own,  why  should  Tony 
Adriance  turn  altruist  and  try  to  do  it  for 
him?  At  least,  Lucille  might  be  happy. 

Mrs.  Masterson  had  touched  her  hat  into 
place,  surveying  her  vivid  reflection.  She  was 
wise  enough  to  take  her  triumph  casually. 

"Shall  we  go?"  she  questioned.  "Nan 
Madison  hates  late  arrivals,  you  know.  Do  make 
your  man  throw  away  that  cravat  you  are  wear- 
ing, Tony.  Gray  is  not  your  color.  It  makes 
you  look  too  pale;  too  much " 

"Like  Maitre  Eaoul  Galvez?"  he  dryly  sup- 
plied, rising. 

"Who  was  he?" 

"A  man  who  raised  the  Devil.  I  am  quite 
ready  if  you  wish  to  go." 


CHAPTER 

THE  GIBL  OUTSIDE 

TONY  ADEIANCE  slipped  into  the  habit  of 
pausing  for  a  few  words  with  the  girl  in  black 
whenever  circumstances  set  them  opposite  each 
other.  And  that  was  quite  often,  since  his  home 
was  so  near  the  pavilion  she  had  adopted  as 
her  place  of  repose.  He  rather  avoided  his 
friends,  during  the  days  following  his  futile 
rebellion  against  Lucille  Master  son's  will,  yet 
he  was  lonely  and  eager  to  escape  thought.  He 
could  talk  to  the  girl,  he  admitted  to  himself, 
because  she  did  not  know  him. 

They  met  with  a  casual  frankness,  the  girl 
and  he,  like  two  men  who  find  each  other  con- 
genial, yet  whose  lives  lie  far  apart.  Their 
brief  conversations  were  intimate  without  being 
inquisitively  personal.  She  had  a  trick  of  say- 
ing things  that  lingered  in  the  memory;  at  least, 
in  his  memory.  Not  fhat  she  was  especially  bril- 
liant; her  charm  was  her  earnestness,  at  once 
vivid  and  tranquil,  and  the  odd  glamor  of  en- 

45 


46  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

chantment  she  threw  over  plain  commonsense, 
making  it  no  longer  plain,  but  alluring  as  folly. 

But  she  continued  to  wear  the  shabby  little 
boots,  with  their  optimistic  bravery  of  blacking. 
They  really  were  respectable  boots,  aging,  not 
aged.  The  fault  lay  with  Adriance,  not  them; 
he  was  too  much  accustomed  to  women  "  whose 
sandals  delighted  his  eyes.7'  If  her  feet  had 
been  less  childishly  small,  they  might  have  pre- 
occupied him  less.  As  it  was,  they  preoccupied 
him  more  and  more. 

There  is  no  accepted  way  of  offering  a  pair 
of  shoes  to  a  feminine  acquaintance.  Neverthe- 
less, in  the  third  week  of  his  friendship  with  the 
girl,  Adriance  bought  a  pair  of  pumps  for  her. 
He  had  seen  them  in  a  glass  case  set  out  before 
a  shop  and  stopped  to  gaze,  astonished.  They 
were  so  unmistakably  hers ;  the  size,  the  rounded 
lines,  the  very  arch  and  tilt  were  right !  They 
were  of  shining  black,  with  Spanish  heels  and 
glinting  buckles. 

He  took  them  home  with  him,  but  of  course 
he  dared  not  give  them  to  her.  He  had  an  idea 
that  he  might  essay  the  venture  on  the  last 
occasion  of  their  meeting;  if  she  punished 


THE  GIRL  OUTSIDE  47 

with  banishment,  then,  it  would  not  matter. 
For  he  meant  to  leave  New  York  when  Lucille 
went  to  Florida.  He  would  spend  the  necessary 
interval  between  the  divorce  and  his  marriage, 
in  Canada,  alone. 

Meanwhile,  there  was  the  girl. 

It  was  on  the  last  day  of  October  that  Ke 
found  her  knitting  instead  of  embroidering;  'a 
web  of  gay  scarlet  across  her  knees. 

"A  new  suit  for  Holly's  big  Teddybear," 
she  explained,  as  he  sat  down  opposite  to  her. 
' l  Christmas  is  coming,  you  know.  I  like  to  have 
all  ready  in  advance.  Don 't  you  think  the  color 
should  become  a  brown-plush  bear?" 

"It  is  not  depressing." 

"It  is  the  color  of  holly.  And  depression 
is  not  a  sensation  to  cultivate,  is  it?"  She 
paused  to  gaze  across  the  river,  already  shad- 
owed by  approaching  evening.  "I  believe  in 
fighting  it  off  with  both  hands ;  driving  a  spear 
right  through  the  ugly  thing  and  holding  it  up 
like  Sir  Sintram  with  that  wriggly  monster  in 
the  old  picture." 

"You  would  be  a  good  one  to  be  in  trouble 
with,"  he  said  abruptly. 


48  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

She  disentangled  his  meaning  from  the  ex- 
tremely vague  speech,  and  nodded  serious 
assent. 

' '  Yes,  perhaps.  I  'm  used  to  making  the  most 
of  things." 

"The  best  of  them,"  he  corrected. 

"Of  course!  The  most  best — why  should 
anyone  make  more  worst?" 

They  laughed  together.  But  directly  the 
restless  unhappiness  flowed  back  into  hisi  eyes. 

"They  do,  though!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Then  they  are  wrong,  all  wrong,"  she  said 
decidedly.  "They  should  set  themselves  right 
the  moment  they  find  it  out." 

"But  if  they  can't?"  he  urged,  with  a  per- 
sonal heat  and  protest.  "Things  aren't  so  sim- 
ple as  all  that.  Suppose  they  can't  set  one  thing 
straight  without  knocking  over  a  lot  of  others  ? 
You  cannot  go  cutting  and  slashing  through  like 
that!" 

"Oh,  yes;  you  can,"  she  contradicted,  sit- 
ting very  upright,  her  gray  eyes  fired.  "You 
must ;  anyone  must.  It  is  cowardly  to  let  things, 
crooked  things,  grow  and  grow.  And  one  could 


THE  GIRL  OUTSIDE  49 

not  knock  down  anything  worth  while  that 
easily.  Good  things  are  strong." 

He  shook  his  head.  But  she  had  stirred  him 
so  that  he  sat  silent  for  a  while,  then  rather  sud- 
denly rose  to  take  his  leave. 

"You  never  told  me  your  name,"  he  re- 
marked, looking  down  at  her.  He  noticed  again 
how  supple  and  deft  her  fingers  were,  and  their 
capable  swiftness  at  the  work. 

* '  No.    Why  ? ' '  she  replied  simply. 

1  i  I  don 't  know, ' '  he  accepted  the  rehuke.  * '  I 
— beg  your  pardon." 

"Oh,  certainly.  Holly  is  trying  to  shake 
hands  before  you  go." 

Of  course  he  and  the  baby  had  become 
friends.  He  carefully  yielded  his  forefinger  to 
the  clutching  hands,  but  he  did  not  smile  as 
usual. 

"Look  here,"  he  spoke  out  brusquely. 
"Just  as  an  illustration  that  things  are  not  as 
easily  kept  straight  as  you  seem  to  think — I 
know  a  man  who  somehow  got  to  following  one 
woman  around.  I  don't  think  he  knows  quite 
how.  Of  course,  he  admired  her  immensely,  and 
liked  her.  "Well,  I  suppose  he  felt  more  than 


SO  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

that !  But  he  never  even  imagined  making  love 
to  her,  because  she  was  married.  You  see,  he 
was  a  fool.  One  day  when  he  called,  she  told 
him  that  she  was  going  to  get  a  divorce  from 
her  husband.  She  has  the  right.  And  the  man 
found  she  expected  to  marry  him,  afterward; 
she  thought  he  had  meant  that  all  along.  What 
could  he  do  ?  What  can  he  do  t ' ' 

The  baby  gurgled  merrily,  dropping  the  fore- 
finger and  yawning.  The  girl  laid  down  her 
work  to  tuck  a  coverlet  about  her  charge. 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  admitted,  her  voice 
low. 

Adriance  drew  a  quick  breath. 

"That  isn't  all  of  it.  The  husband  is  the 
man's  friend.  Why,  they  used  to  sleep  together, 

eat  together !  And  he  doesn  't  know.  Don 't 

you  see,  the  man  has  to  fail  either  the  husband 
or  wife?  How  can  you  straighten  that?" 

She  looked  up,  to  meet  the  unconscious  self- 
betrayal  of  his  defiant,  unhappy  eyes. 

"I  am  very  sorry  for  him,"  she  answered 
gravely.  And,  after  a  moment.  "She  must  be 
very  clever." 

He  started  away  from  the  suggestion  with 


THE  GIRL  OUTSIDE  51 

sharp  resentment.  Clever — that  was  his  father's 
term  for  Lucille  Masterson ;  and  it  was  hateful 
to  him.  He  would  not  analyze  why  he  felt  that 
repugnance  to  hearing  Lucille  called  clever.  He 
refused  to  consider  what  that  implied,  what  ugly 
depths  of  doubt  were  stirred  in  him  to  make  "him 
wince  in  anger  and  humiliation.  Suddenly  he 
bitterly  regretted  having  told  the  story  to  this 
girl,  even  under  the  concealed  identity. 

"No  doubt,"  he  made  a  coldly  vague  rejoin- 
der. "I  dare  say  the  matter  will  work  itself  out 
well  enough.  It  is  getting  late;  I  think  I  must 
go." 

It  was  altogether  too  abrupt,  and  he  knew  it. 
But  he  could  do  no  better.  He  knew  the  girl's 
eyes  followed  him  away,  and  he  walked  with 
careful  ease  and  nonchalance. 

Out  of  her  sight,  he  walked  more  slowly. 
Already  the  autumn  twilight  was  settling  down 
like  a  delicate  gray  veil.  At  the  foot  of  the  Pali- 
sades, opposite,  a  familiar  point  of  light  sprang 
into  view  among  the  myriad  lights  there ;  a  point 
that  ran  like  fire  through  tow,  up,  across,  around 
until  the  glittering  words  shone  complete: 
' '  Adriance  's  Paper. ' ' 


52  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  name  was  reflected  in  the  dark  water. 
Down  there,  it  swayed  weakly  and  its  legend  was 
broken  by  the  river's  ripples.  ''You  shine,  np 
there,  but  I  govern  here,"  the  Hudson  flung  its 
scorn  back  to  the  man-made  arrogance.  He  was 
like  that  reflection,  Tony  Adriance  thought,  with 
a  fancy  caught  from  the  girl's  trick  of  imagery; 
he  was  the  mere  reflection  of  his  father's  suc- 
cesses, shifting,  worthless,  inseparable  from  the 
gold-colored  reality  above,  dancing  and  broken 
on  the  current  of  a  woman's  will.  He  himself 
was — nothing.  He  winced  under  the  self-applied 
lash.  It  was  knotted  with  truth ;  he,  personally, 
never  had  counted.  Even  Lucille  never  had  said 
she  loved  him ;  she  simply  had  taken  his  devotion 
for  granted,  and  used  it.  Would  she  have  prom- 
ised herself  to  him  if  he  had  been  a  poor  man! 
Would  she  ever  have  contemplated  divorce  from 
Masterson,  with  all  his  faults,  if  Tony  Adriance 
had  not  brought  himself  and  his  gilded  possibili- 
ties across  her  path?  The  questions  were  ugly, 
and  sent  the  blood  into  his  face.  He  stopped 
walking  and  stood  by  the  stone  wall  edging  the 
sidewalk,  facing  the  river. 

He  always  had  resented  being  merely  his 


THE  GIRL  OUTSIDE  63 

father's  heir,  in  a  vague,  unanalyzed  way.  Now 
resentment  threatened  to  flame  into  rebellion. 

Eebellion  against  what!  His  father,  who  left 
him  absolute  freedom  from  any  restraint? 
Lucille,  whom  he  was  at  perfect  liberty  never  to 
see  again,  if  he  chose  to  deny  her  assumption? 
He  was  very  completely  trapped  by  circum- 
stance, since  the  trap  was  open  and  yet  he  could 
not  leave  it. 

The  delicate  dot  on  the  i  of  irony  was  that 
he  had  loved  Lucille,  yet  he  knew  he  must  be 
miserable  with  her  all  their  lives.  He  thought 
of  her  even  now  with  a  certain  longing,  yet  he 
would  always  distrust  her  and  detest  himself. 
His  fingers  gripped  the  stone  edge ;  he  felt  a  pas- 
sionate envy  of  men  who  were  strong  enough  to 
do  insane,  desperate  things,  to  tear  their  own 
way  ruthlessly  through  the  clinging  web  of  other 
people's  ways.  He  fancied  the  girl  in  black  to  be 
such  a  person ;  if  she  considered  herself  right  in 
any  course,  she  would  take  it. 

But  after  a  while  he  turned  away  and  began 
to  walk  home.  He  had  to  dress,  for  he  was  dining 
with  the  Mastersons.  It  had  been  insisted  upon, 
to  make  amends  for  the  night  he  had  stayed  away 


54  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

to  dine  with  Ms  father.  Lucille  was  not  yet 
ready  for  any  audible  whisper  to  suggest  divorce 
to  the  world  or  her  husband.  Tony  must  come 
and  go  as  usual  for  a  few  weeks  more.  She  had 
chosen  to  forget  his  appeal,  after  quelling  his 
mutiny.  Mrs.  Masterson  was  not  a  generous 
victor. 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GBASPED 

THE  Mastersons'  apartment  had,  like  many 
such  apartments,  a  charming  little  foyer.  It 
was  lighted  by  a  jade-green  lamp,  swung  in 
bronze  chains  delicately  green  from  the  tinting 
of  time;  and  the  notes  of  bronze  and  dull 
jade  were  carried  through  all  the  furnishings, 
through  leather  and  tapestry  and  even  a  great, 
dragon-clasped  Chinese  vase.  But  those  green- 
ish lights  were  not  always  becoming  to  visitors. 
When  Tony  Adriance  entered  the  foyer  that 
evening  they  were  so  unbecoming  to  him  that 
the  maid  privately  decided  he  was  ill.  Her 
master  not  infrequently  came  home  with  that 
worn  look  about  the  eyes  and  mouth.  She  won- 
dered if  Mr.  Adriance  gambled. 

None  of  the  other  guests  had  arrived.  In- 
deed, it  was  not  yet  time.  The  clink  of  glass  and 
bustle  of  servants  in  the  dining-room  alone  told 
of  the  coming  event  in  hospitality.  Hospitality  ? 
Tony  Adriance  stood  still,  arrested  in  his  move- 

55 


56  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

ment  toward  the  drawing-room ;  the  sick  distaste 
of  all  the  last  weeks  finally  culminated  in 
paralysis  before  the  prospect  of  the  farce  he 
was  expected  to  play  out,  with  his  unconscious 
host  as  spectator. 

"I — am  not  ready,"  he  found  himself  tem- 
porizing with  the  maid.  His  glance  fell  upon 
a  desk  and  prompted  him.  "I  have  forgotten 
an  important  letter ;  I  will  write  it  before  I  go  in. 
Don't  wait;  I  know  my  way.*' 

She  obeyed  him.  Of  course  he  had  nothing 
to  write,  but  he  fumbled  for  a  sheet  of  paper  and 
picked  up  a  pen.  He  was  awake  at  last  to  the 
enormity  of  his  presence  here  as  a  guest;  be- 
fore he  had  glimpsed  it,  now  he  saw  it,  stripped 
naked. 

He  could  not  go  on.  There  was  no  reason 
why  the  conviction  should  have  come  to  him  at 
this  moment,  but  it  did  so.  As  he  sat  there,  that 
knowledge  rose  slowly  to  full  stature  before  his 
vision  like  an  actual  figure  reared  in  the  path  he 
had  been  following.  It  was  no  longer  a  question 
of  Lucille 's  desires  or  his  own;  he  could  not  do 
this  thing. 

He  was  not  accustomed  to  intricate  windings 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  57 

of  thought,  or  to  self -analysis.  He  hardly  under- 
stood, as  yet,  what  was  aroused  in  him,  or  why. 
But  he  knew  that  he  must  act ;  that  his  time  of 
passive  drifting  was  ended.  Once  Lucille  had 
reproached  him  with  cowardice.  To-day,  the 
girl  in  the  pavilion  had  innocently  brought  the 
charge  again.  And  the  girl  was  right;  it  was 
cowardly  to  let  a  wrong  grow  and  grow.  Mas- 
terson's  friend  in  Masterson's  house!  Adriance 
dropped  the  pen  his  clenching  fingers  had  bent, 
and  stood  up. 

The  maid  had  gone  back  to  that  centre  of 
approaching  activities,  the  kitchen.  Alone, 
Adriance  went  down  the  corridor  to  the 
drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Masterson  was  alone  there,  moving 
some  introduced  chairs  into  less  conspicuous 
situations.  The  alien  chairs  were  covered  in 
rose-color  and  marred  the  clouded-blue  effect 
of  the  room.  She  pushed  them  about  with  a 
vicious  force,  as  though  she  hated  the  inanimate 
offenders;  her  expression  was  sullen  and 
fretful. 

That  expression  altered  too  quickly,  when 
she  saw  Adriance  standing  on  the  threshold. 


58  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

He  caught  the  skilful  change  that  transformed 
it  into  winning  plaintiveness. 

"You,  Tony?"  she  greeted  him,  advancing 
to  give  him  her  hand.  * 'I  am  so  glad  it  was  no 
one  else.  You  know  how  I  must  contrive  and 
make  the  best  of  what  little  I  have.  How  I 
loathe  this  cramped  place,  and  bringing  chairs 
from  beck-chambers  to  have  enough,  and  all 

pinching 1"  She  glanced  about  her  with  a 

flare  of  contempt,  her  smooth  scarlet  lip  lifting 
in  a  sneer. 

Adriance  slowly  looked  over  the  room,  not 
very  large,  perhaps,  yet  scarcely  cramped ;  made 
lovely  by  opalescent  lamps  and  fragrant  by  the 
perfume  of  roses  set  in  high,  slender  vases  of 
rock-crystal.  All  one  wall  was  smothered  in 
the  silken  warmth  of  a  Chinese  rug,  against 
whose  blue  was  lifted  the  creamy  whiteness  of 
an  ivory  elephant  quaintly  carved  and  poised  on 
its  pedestal.  Even  to  his  eyes  nothing  here  war- 
ranted discontent. 

"I  thought  this  very  pretty,"  he  dissented. 
"I  thought  Masterson  had  done  things  very  well, 
here." 

"Well  enough,  for  a  nook  in  a  house;  not  for 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  59 

the  house,"  she  retorted.  "I  hate  living  in 
apartments.  I  always  have  wanted  stairs ;  wide, 
shining  stairs  down  which  I  would  pass  to  cross 
broad  rooms!" 

She  drew  a  thirsty  breath.  In  the  gleaming 
gown  which  left  uncovered  as  much  of  her  beauty 
as  an  indulgent  fashion  allowed,  her  large  light 
eyes  avid,  her  yellow  head  thrown  slightly  for- 
ward as  she  looked  up  at  the  man,  she  was  a 
vivid  and  unconscious  embodiment  of  greed. 
Not  the  pitiful  greed  of  necessity,  but  the  greed 
which,  having  much,  covets  more.  As  if  he 
shared  her  mind,  Adriance  knew  that  she  pict- 
ured herself  descending  the  stairs  in  his 
father's  house  gowned  and  jewelled  as  Mrs. 
Tony  Adriance  could  be  and  Lucille  Masterson 
could  not. 

He  was  not  aware  of  the  change  in  his  own 
face  until  he  saw  its  reflection  in  the  sudden 
alarm  and  question  clouding  hers.  He  answered 
her  expression,  then,  compelling  his  voice  to  hold 
its  low  evenness  of  speech  with  the  inborn  dis- 
taste of  well-bred  modern  man  for  betrayed 
emotion. 

* '  That  is  it, ' '  he  interpreted.    ' '  That  is  why 


60  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

you  would  marry  me  and  leave  Masterson.  You 
want  more  than  he  can  give  you.  If  he  had  as 
much  to  give  as  I  have,  it  would  not  matter  what 
he  did.  You  would  bear  with  him.  Perhaps  you 
have  been  bearing  with  me." 

"Tony!"  she  stammered. 

"It  is  quite  true.  I  have  been  a  solemn  fool. 
I  have  been  nerving  myself  to  lay  down  my 
self-respect  without  flinching,  because  I  believed 
that  I  had  led  you  to  count  upon  me;  and  all 
the  while  you  were  counting  upon  what  I 
owned." 

She  gathered  her  forces  together  after  the 
surprise. 

"Bather  severe,  Tony,  because  I  dislike  ex- 
pensive tenement  life!"  she  commented,  with 
careful  irony.  Turning  aside,  she  laid  her  lace 
scarf  across  a  table,  gaining  a  respite  from  his 
gaze.  "Have  I  ever  pretended  not  to  care  for 
beautiful,  luxurious  things?  And  does  that 
argue  that  I  care  for  nothing  else?  I  think  you 
should  apologize — and  pay  more  heed  to  your 
digestion." 

He  paused  an  instant,  steadying  himself.   As 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  61 

usual,  she  had  contrived  to  make  him  feel  in  the 
wrong  and  ashamed. 

"I  do  apologize,"  he  said,  less  certainly.  "I 
did  not  come  in  here  to  say  all  that,  Lucille.  But 
I  did  come  to  say  what  reaches  the  same  end. 
We  cannot  finish  this  thing  we  have  begun.  We 
could  not  stand  it.  Think  whatever  you  may  of 
me  as  a  coward,  I  am  not  going  on." 

" Indeed,  I  think  you  have  gone  far  enough," 
she  calmly  returned.  1 1  Suppose  we  sit  down  and 
be  civilized.  Will  you  smoke  before  dinner?" 

He  shook  his  head,  baffled  in  spite  of  himself 
by  her  elusiveness,  but  also  angered  to  resolu- 
tion. And  he  knew  that  he  had  seen  her  truly 
a  moment  since;  the  loveliness  that  had  glam- 
oured his  sight  for  a  year  could  not  hide  from 
memory  that  glimpse  of  her  mind. 

"I  am  not  staying  to  dinner,  thanks,"  he 
refused.  "And  I  am  not  playing.  Our  matter 
looked  bad  enough  as  it  was,  but  you  showed  me 
a  worse  thing,  just  now.  It  was  bad  enough  to 
take  my  friend's  wife  for  love ;  I  can't  and  won't 
take  her  by  means  of  my  father's  money." 

She  wheeled  about,  swiftly  and  hotly  aflame, 
and  they  stared  at  each  other  as  strangers. 


62  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"You  have  forgotten  that  we  are  engaged,*' 
she  said  stingingly.  "Or  doesn't  your  con- 
science heed  a  broken  word?" 

"Perhaps  it  is  heeding  the  tactf illness  of 
being  engaged  to  one  man  while  you  are  mar- 
ried to  another,"  he  struck  back,  goaded  to  a 
brutality  foreign  to  his  nature. 

The  faint  chime  of  touching  glasses  checked 
them  on  the  brink  of  a  breach  that  would  have 
made  reconciliation  impossible.  Mrs.  Masterson 
dropped  into  a  chair,  snatching  up  a  fan  to 
shade  her  flushed  face.  Adriance  stood  stiffly 
where  he  was,  wisely  making  no  attempt  at  arti- 
ficial nonchalance.  The  servant  who  entered 
saw  only  composure  in  his  immobility. 

Mrs.  Masterson  eagerly  lifted  the  offered 
cocktail  to  her  lips,  as  if  anger  had  parched 
them.  Adriance  took  a  glass  from  the  tray  pre- 
sented to  him,  but  at  once  set  it  aside  upon  the 
table ;  now  that  he  realized,  he  felt  that  the  hos- 
pitality of  this  house  was  not  for  him.  But  the 
brief  interlude  helped  both  of  them. 

When  the  servant  had  gone,  Adriance  spoke 
with  restored  calmness. 

"You  see,  even  now  the  situation  has  warped 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  63 

us  all  awry.  If  it  were  not  so,  I  should  like 
to  buy  things  for  you,  I  suppose.  I  can 
imagine " 

He  broke  the  sentence ;  quite  suddenly  he  had 
remembered  the  little  buckled  shoes  bought  for 
the  girl  in  the  pavilion.  He  had  looked  inter- 
estedly at  other  things  in  the  shop,  while  he 
waited  for  his  parcel.  It  would  have  given  him 
delight  to  purchase  certain  elaborate  stockings 
and  absurd  lace-frilled  handkerchiefs. 

"I  can  imagine  that  I  should,"  he  finished 
lamely.  "  Lucille,  you  will  come  to  agree  with 
me,  I  hope.  But  even  if  you  do  not,  I  cannot 
goon." 

She  rose  and  came  up  to  him  with  a  swift 
movement  that  brought  both  her  hands  against 
his  shoulders  before  he  grasped  her  intention. 
Her  warm  face  was  directly  beneath  his  own. 

"Is  there  someone  else,  Tony?"  she  de- 
manded. "Some  girl?  Of  course  it  would  be 
a  young  girl  who  inspired  all  this;  'pure  as 
water' — and  as  tasteless!  Is  that  it?" 

She  might  have  struck  him  with  less  effect. 
Tony  Adriance  went  absolutely  numb  with  dis- 
gusted wrath.  What  preposterous  thing  did  she 


64  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

imply?  The  shining  gray  eyes  of  the  girl  in  the 
pavilion  looked  at  him  across  the  alert,  probing 
gaze  of  Lucille  Masterson;  looked  at  him  with 
beautiful  candor,  with  indignation.  He  felt  out- 
raged, as  if  the  young  girl  herself  had  been  made 
present  in  this  nasty  scene.  And  without  cause ! 
He  had  no  thought  of  loving  that  sober  little 
figure ;  he  was  sick  of  love. 

"I  am  sorry  you  cannot  credit  me  with  one 
disinterested  motive,"  he  said  coldly.  "As  it 
happens,  you  are  wrong.  There  is  no  one  except 
you.  I  am  going  away  because  you  are  neither 
unmarried  nor  a  widow,  since  you  force  me  to 
repeat  all  this.  If  you  were  either " 

"You  would  stay?"  she  whispered. 

He  looked  down  at  her,  and  as  always  before 
her  magic  his  strength  grew  weak.  He  lifted  her 
hands  from  his  shoulders,  before  replying. 

"Yes,"  he  conceded,  his  voice  changed. 
"But  it  is  over,  Lucille.  Tell  Masterson  I  have 
gone  abroad;  to  stay." 

As  he  moved  toward  the  door,  Mrs.  Mas- 
terson turned  to  the  table  and  caught  up  his 
untouched  glass.  Fear  and  chagrin  were  swept 
from  her  face ;  it  still  glowed  from  her  late  rage, 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  65 

but  her  eyes  were  lighted  with  confidence  and 
ironic  relief. 

' '  To  your  safe  voyage  and  pleasant  return ! '  '• 
she  exclaimed  lightly,  facing  him  across  the 
room.  "For  you  will  come  back,  Tony.  The 
spasm  will  pass;  and  leave  you  lonely.  I  can 
wait,  then.  Good-night." 

She  laughed  outright  at  the  consternation  in 
his  glance,  as  he  paused.  But  he  turned  and 
went  out,  leaving  her  leaning  across  the  arm  of 
one  of  the  discordant  rose-colored  chairs,  watch- 
ing him. 

Back  in  the  foyer,  Adriance  stopped  to  re- 
cover a  conventional  composure  of  bearing 
before  going  out.  He  recalled  that  he  must  pass 
inspection  by  the  elevator  boy  and  footman; 
must  meet  their  wonder,  no  less  obvious  because 
dumb,  at  his  departure  before  the  dinner. 

The  heavy  blankness  of  his  waiting  was 
broken  by  the  gayest  sound  in  the  world.  The 
gurgling  laughter  of  a  happy  child  rippled 
through  the  silence  like  a  brook,  cascading  down 
in  a  cadence  of  chuckles.  As  if  to  confirm  the 
recognition  to  which  Adriance  started,  a  girl's 
clear  laugh  joined  the  baby  merriment.  Oppo- 


66  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

site  him,  light  showed  in  a  thin  line  through  a 
curtained  doorway.  Without  the  slightest  re- 
membrance of  proprieties  or  conventions,  he 
sprang  that  way  and  swung  the  door  open. 

He  was  on  the  threshold  of  a  nursery;  a 
room  pink  as  the  inside  of  a  rosebud,  gay  with 
all  the  adorable  paraphernalia  babyhood  de- 
mands, fragrant  with  violet-powder  and  warm 
as  a  nest.  At.  the  foot  of  a  shining  little  bed, 
clutching  the  brass  rail  for  support  while  exe- 
cuting a  stamping  dance,  was  the  lord  of  the 
domain;  his  silk-fine,  frankly  red  hair  rumpled 
into  glinting  ringlets  about  his  moist,  rosy  face, 
his  blue  eyes  crinkled  shut  by  mirth.  The  girl 
knelt  opposite,  steadying  the  chubby  figure  and 
serenely  indifferent  to  the  small,  mischievous 
fingers  that  had  loosened  her  dark  hair  from  Its 
braids.  Without  her  hat,  she  was  younger, 
even  more  wholesome  and  good  than  he  had 
thought.  She  looked  as  fresh  and  candid  as  the 
damp,  open-lipped  kisses  the  baby  lavished  upon 
her. 

Perhaps  the  intruder  moved,  perhaps  she  felt 
his  gaze,  for  as  he  watched  the  girl  broke  up  the 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  67 

picture.  She  rose  abruptly,  turned,  and  saw 
him  standing  there. 

At  first  her  startled  face  told  only  of  sur- 
prise; indeed  his  mere  presence  there  gave  her 
no  reason  to  feel  more.  But  in  his  dismay  and 
bewilderment  and  complete  obsession  Tony 
Adriance  betrayed  himself. 

"I  didn't  know,"  he  stammered,  grasping 
blindly  at  justification  and  apology.  "I  didn't 
know  who  Holly  was — or  that  you  lived  here. 
I  am  sorry;  I  should  not  have  spoken " 

He  stopped  short.  He  had  forgotten  the 
fiction  of  a  third  person  with  which  he  had 
masked  his  confidence  in  the  park ;  forgotten  that 
the  girl  knew  neither  his  name  nor  his  purpose 
in  this  house.  Quite  without  necessity  he  had 
enlightened  her. 

For  the  girl  was  swift  of  perception.  Per- 
haps his  expression  alone  would  have  told  her 
the  truth,  if  he  had  been  silent.  Mechanically 
she  had  put  one  arm  around  the  baby,  now  she 
drew  it  closer,  as  if  in  protection.  Her  rain- 
gray  eyes  grieved,  reproached,  rebuked  him. 
Possessed  of  Lucille  Masterson's  plans,  holding 
her  son,  she  faced  him  in  judgment. 


68  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Of  course  he  had  known  Lucille  had  a  child, 
somewhat  as  he  knew  his  father  owned  the  fac- 
tory behind  the  electric  sign.  He  never  had  seen 
either  of  them,  except  distantly;  they  meant 
nothing  actual  to  him.  But  now,  there  seemed 
nothing  in  the  world  so  important.  The  girl  had 
not  spoken,  yet  she  had  abruptly  brought  him 
face  to  face  with  new  things. 

"You  know,  I  would  have  taken  him,  too,*7 
he  tried  to  answer  all  she  left  unsaid,  hating 
himself  for  the  unsteady  humility  he  could  not 
keep  from  his  voice.  "I  always  meant  to.  I 
meant  to  do  everything  for  the  boy.  I  could — I 
am  Anthony  Adriance. ' ' 

She  spoke,  then,  her  smooth  voice  all  rough- 
ened. 

"You  can  buy  him  everything1?  You  cannot 
buy  him  his  father.  And  nothing  will  make  up 
for  that. " 

"But " 

She  struck  down  the  weak  protest. 

"I  know.  I  have  a  good  father.  And  Holly," 
the  infinite  compassion  of  her  glance  embraced 
the  baby,  "he  has  not  even  a  real  mother  to  do 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  69 

her  half.  It  is  not  right;  you  cannot  make  it 
right." 

' 'But  I  have !    I  am  going 1 " 

He  faltered.  How  was  he  to  explain  to  her 
the  scene  that  had  just  been  enacted?  Was  it 
decent  to  Lucille? 

"I've  done  my  best,"  he  stammered.  "I 
told  you;  you  know  I've  not  liked  this." 

The  exclamation  blended  defiance  and  appeal ; 
it  was  almost  a  cry  wrested  from  him.  His  posi- 
tion had  been  hard  enough  before  the  introduc- 
tion of  this  new  element.  The  girl  understood, 
for  the  anger  died  from  her  eyes  like  a  blown- 
out  flame. 

"There  must  be  a  way,"  she  said  quite 
gently.  "There  is  always  a  right  way,  if  one 
can  only  find  it.  I  think  you  had  better  not  stay 
here,  now.  Mr.  Masterson  always  comes  at  this 
time;  it  is  even  late  for  him." 

The  warning  had  been  delayed  too  long. 
Almost  with  the  last  word,  a  man's  step  sounded 
in  the  foyer,  the  curtains  rustled  apart  and  the 
door  swung. 

"What,  Tony  in  a  nursery!"  exclaimed  the 
master  of  the  house,  with  an  oddly  tired  gayety. 


70  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

He  came  forward  and  gave  his  hand  to  Adriance, 
his  amused  scrutiny  wholly  cordial.  If  he  won- 
dered how  the  other  man  came  here,  he  was  both 
too  indifferent  and  too  well-bred  to  betray  the 
fact.  "You  have  caught  me;  here  is  the  only 
place  I  am  behind  the  times, ' '  he  added.  ' '  Hello, 
son!" 

Adriance  was  spared  the  necessity  of  reply- 
ing. The  baby,  who  had  stood  staring  round- 
eyed  at  the  visitor,  exploded  into  a  very  madness 
of  chuckles  and  shouts,  twisting  out  of  the  girPs 
hold  and  plunging  toward  the  newcomer  with  fat 
arms  insistently  spread.  With  an  apologetic, 
half-diffident  glance  at  his  guest,  Masterson 
caught  and  swung  Holly  into  the  game  of  romps 
demanded. 

It  was  a  good  game,  evidently  the  result  of 
practice.  The  pink  room  rang  with  treble 
shrieks  of  glee;  and  Masterson  laughed,  too, 
occasionally  interjecting  phrases  of  caution  or 
comment. 

"Jove,  what  a  punch!  How's  that  for 
muscle,  Tony?  Easy,  son!  How  do  you  like 
your  wig  pulled?  Steady,  now." 


THERE    WOULD    HAVE     BEEN     NO     MORE     BEDTIME     ROMPS     FOR 
MASTERSON  AND  HIS  SON 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  71 

The  two  in  the  background  looked  on. 
Adriance's  throat  was  contracting ;  he  was  suffo- 
cating with  a  terrible  sense  of  barely  having 
escaped  a  shameful  action.  He  understood  the 
girl  even  better  now.  Only,  if  he  loathed  him- 
self so  much,  yet  knew  that  at  least  he  had  ended 
the  wrong,  how  much  more  must  her  clear  sight 
find  him  despicable  in  her  ignorance  of  his  tardy 
amendment!  He  dared  not  look  at  her.  He 
tried  to  remember  Lucille  Masterson 's  regret- 
fully murmured  plaints  of  Fred's  carelessness 
with  money,  his  "wildness"  and  neglect  of  her. 
But  he  could  only  think  heavily  that  if  Mrs. 
Masterson  had  obtained  a  divorce,  the  custody  of 
the  child  would  surely  have  been  awarded  to 
her,  the  irreproachable  wife.  There  would  have 
been  no  more  bedtime  romps  for  Fred  Masterson 
and  his  son.  How  much  alike  the  two  looked! 
He  had  forgotten  how  very  auburn  Fred's  hair 
was,  and  how  boyish  his  eyes  were  when  he 
laughed. 

With  a  final  toss  and  shout  the  dishevelled, 
panting  baby  was  replaced  in  the  bed,  one  cheek 
poppy-red  from  a  rough  masculine  caress.  A 


72  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

little  shame-faced  over  tlie  sentimentality,  Mas- 
terson  turned  to  his  guest. 

"All  over!"  he  affected  lightness.  "Come 
have  a  Martini  before  dinner,  Tony." 

* '  No,  thanks.  I  couldn 't. ' '  Adriance  pulled 
himself  together  with  a  sharp  effort.  "I  heard 
your  kiddie  laughing,  and  just  looked  in  here.  I 
ought  to  apologize;  I  have  not  yet  met  this 
lady " 

Master  son  regarded  him  curiously. 

"Miss  Elsie  Murray,  Mr.  Adriance,"  he 
obeyed  the  implied  request.  "Miss  Murray  is 
good  enough  to  be  Holly's  guardian,  since  no  one 
of  his  family  has  time  for  that — or  inclination. " 

She  was  a  nurse.  The  simple  fact  came  home 
to  Adriance  for  the  first  time.  The  severe  black 
dress,  the  little  white  cuffs  and  collar  that  made 
it  a  uniform,  her  constant  attendance  upon  the 
baby — all  the  obvious  evidence  had  been  over- 
shadowed for  him  by  her  face  and  bearing,  the 
personality  out  of  all  accord  with  the  position 
in  which  she  was. 

There  was  no  change  in  her  face.  He  com- 
prehended that  she  never  had  imagined  him 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  73 

ignorant  of  her  relation  to  Holly.  Through  all 
his  whirling  confusion  of  thought,  Adriance  con- 
trived to  hold  outward  composure  and  acknowl- 
edge the  introduction  as  he  would  that  to  any 
gentlewoman.  The  quaint  word  seemed  to  suit 
her. 

She  met  him  with  a  poise  at  least  equal  to  his 
own.  But  it  was  he  who  offered  his  hand,  heed- 
less of  Masterson's  observation.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  he  never  had  desired  anything  in  his 
life  so  desperately,  with  such  passionate  eager- 
ness as  he  desired  to  be  justified  before  this  girl. 
He  wanted  her  to  know  the  very  thing  he  could 
not  honorably  tell  anyone:  that  he  had  broken 
with  Lucille  Masterson  of  his  own  free  will. 
His  eyes  sought  hers,  unconsciously  beseeching 
her  grace  of  comprehension;  indeed,  he  had  a 
confused  idea  that  she  would  comprehend  that 
his  offered  handclasp  was  ventured  only  because 
he  was  not  going  to  do  the  wrong  they  both 
hated. 

Perhaps  she  did  understand.  At  least,  she 
gave  him  her  hand,  for  the  first  time  in  their 
acquaintance.  He  grasped  it  with  a  brightening 
of  his  drawn  face,  leaning  toward  her. 


74  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Thank  you!"  he  said.  "I  congratulate 
Holly ;  you  will  teach  him  in  time  about  Maitre 
Eaoul  Galvez." 

That  speech  took  her  by  surprise;  for  an 
instant  she  did  not  withdraw  her  hand,  her  direct 
gaze  meeting  his.  He  saw  her  gray  eyes  cloud 
and  clear,  and  cloud  again;  abruptly  her  dark 
lashes  cloaked  them  from  him. 

* '  Yes, ' '  she  murmured.    '  *  Yes. ' ' 

Masterson  was  staring  at  the  two,  his  lips 
parted  by  cynical  interest.  But  no  one  perceived 
the  second  observer.  Mrs.  Masterson  had  come 
to  the  doorway  while  Masterson  was  playing 
with  the  baby  and  still  stood  there,  narrowed, 
incredulous  eyes  appraising  the  amazing  tableau 
offered  by  her  nursemaid  and  Tony  Adriance. 
She  herself  had  followed  Adriance  for  a  last 
word,  unaware  of  her  husband's  return  home. 
And  she  had  found  this  group,  in  her  nursery. 

When  the  others  moved,  she  drew  back.  The 
curtains  noiselessly  fell  shut.  The  two  men 
came  into  the  foyer  almost  immediately,  but  the 
bronze  lamp  lighted  an  empty  room. 

Masterson  asked  no  questions  of  his  guest 
as  they  paused  outside  the  nursery,  but  Adriance 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GRASPED  75 

had  recollected  himself  enough  to  shelter  the 
girl  from  embarrassment. 

"I  stopped  one  day  to  speak  to  your  boy  in 
the  park, ' '  he  remarked  casually.  ' '  Miss  Murray 
was  telling  him  an  odd  fairy  tale  that  struck 
my  fancy;  Creole,  I  should  think." 

Masterson  dropped  his  hand  on  the  other's 
shoulder  with  an  intimacy  long  unused  between 
them,  ignoring  the  explanation. 

"We  never  seem  to  get  together,  any  more, 
except  at  some  society  nonsense,"  he  regretted. 
"We  used  to  be  pretty  close,  Tony.  Remember 
that  night  in  the  Maine  camp  after  the  canoe 
had  upset,  when  there  was  only  one  blanket  left 
and  we  tossed  up  for  it?  I  don't  remember  who 

won,  but  I  know  we  both  slept  under  it as 

much  as  we  could  get  under."  He  laughed 
reminiscently.  "Well,  it's  a  far  cry  from  there 
to  here !  Shall  we  go  in  to  Lucille?" 

"Thank  you,  but  I  have  made  my  excuses  to 
Mrs.  liasterson,"  Adriance  answered  steadily. 

"I  had  a  telegram !  I  am  off  for  the  rest 

of  the  year;  perhaps  longer.  I  am  going  to 
South  America. ' ' 

"Your  father's  business?    I  remember  you 


76  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

once  spoke  of  some  such  thing.  I  wish  I  were 
going  with  you." 

He  sighed  with  impatient  fatigue,  and  the 
two  stood  for  a  silent  moment.  Masterson 
aroused  himself  to  hold  out  his  slender,  nervous 
hand. 

"Well,  good  luck  go  with  you,  Tony.  It 
usually  does,  though !  '  To  lii™  who  hath . '  ' ' 


CHAPTER  y 

THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE 

THE  next  day  it  stormed.  A  biting  north 
wind  hunted  across  river  and  city ;  a  wind  that 
carried  the  first  ice-particles  of  the  approaching 
winter.  There  were  no  children  on  the  Drive  or 
in  the  park,  except  a  few  sturdy  urchins  neither 
of  the  age  nor  class  attended  by  nurses.  No  one 
uncompelled  cared  to  face  the  grim,  gray,  scowl- 
ing day  whose  breath  was  freezing. 

In  the  Adriances'  breakfast-room,  an  effort 
had  been  made  to  offset  the  outside  cheerlessness 
by  aid  of  lamps  glowing  under  gold-colored 
shades.  But  only  an  optimist  could  have  deluded 
vision  into  accepting  the  artificial  sunshine  as 
satisfactory.  Tony  Adriance  was  even  irritated 
by  the  feeble  sham,  and  snapped  out  the  lamp 
nearest  to  him  as  he  took  his  seat. 

The  action  was  trifling,  but  Mr.  Adriance, 
seated  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  round  table, 
glanced  keenly  at  his  son  and  read  an  interpre- 
tation of  it.  He  believed  that  Tony  wished  to 

77 


T8  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

shadow  the  pale  exhaustion  of  his  face.  In  this 
he  was  wrong;  Tony  Adrianee  was  quite  past 
thoughts  of  his  appearance.  Not  having  looked 
in  a  mirror,  he  was  not  even  aware  of  the  traces 
left  by  the  last  night.  He  did  not  at  all  appre- 
ciate the  significance  with  which  his  father  pres- 
ently inquired,  courteously  concerned : 

"You  are  not  well,  this  morning?" 

"Quite  well,  thank  you,"  Tony  replied;  he 
glanced  up  from  his  plate  somewhat  surprised  at 
the  question. 

Mr.  Adrianee  met  the  glance  with  sincere 
curiosity.  His  first  hazard  failing,  he  sought 
for  a  second.  Indeed,  he  knew  very  well  that 
Tony  had  none  of  the  habits  which  lead  to  un- 
comfortable mornings,  although  to  a  casual  re- 
gard his  present  bearing  suggested  a  white  night. 
Fortunately,  he  had  not  perceived  the  innuendo 
[within  the  older  man's  question  and  was  not 
offended.  Mr.  Adrianee  detested  being  in 
the  wrong. 

Tony  was  too  listless  to  pursue  the  subject  at 
all.  After  vainly  waiting  a  moment  for  his 
father  to  explain  the  inquiry,  he  proceeded  with 
the  business  of  breakfasting  more  or  less  indif- 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  79 

ferently.  He  was  conjecturing  as  to  his  own 
ability  to  set  forth  his  trouble  for  the  calm 
inspection  of  the  gentleman  across  the  table. 
He  had  come  down-stairs  with  that  intention, 
born  of  the  night 's  bitter  experience  of  solitude 
in  unhappiness.  Now  he  felt  that  the  project 
was  impossible.  His  father  and  he  were  not  on 
terms  of  sufficient  intimacy.  He  suffered  an 
access  of  discouragement  and  weariness.  His 
only  idea  had  failed,  yet  something  must  be 
decided,  some  course  followed. 

"You  dined  at  the  Mastersons',  last  night, 
I  believe  ? ' '  Mr.  Adriance  had  found  his  second 
hazard.  Unconsciously  his  voice  sharpened;  it 
would  be  intolerable  if  Tony  and  Masterson  had 
made  some  clumsy  scene  between  them.  Occa- 
sionally Mr.  Adriance  wondered  what  so  clever 
a  woman  as  Lucille  Masterson  had  seen  in  either 
of  the  two. 

"No,  "Tony  denied. 

"  No  ?   I  had  understood ! ' ' 

"I  dined  down-to wn." 

That  was  the  first  deliberate  lie  the  younger 
man  had  told  the  older  in  all  their  life  together. 
But  Tony  confronted  an  utter  impossibility ;  he 


80  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

could  not  confess  that  he  had  sat  until  midnight 
in  a  park  pavilion,  with  no  more  thought  of 
life's  common-sense  routine  than  a  sentimental 
boy.  Nevertheless,  his-  voice  sounded  uncon- 
vincing to  his  own  ears,  and  humiliation  swept 
over  him  like  a  wave  of  heat.  The  desire  to  get 
away  from  everyone  and  everything  familiar 
made  it  difficult  for  him  not  to  spring  up  and 
leave  the  room  and  the  unfinished  breakfast. 

But  Mr.  Adriance  was  convinced  and 
appeased.  In  Ms  relief,  he  felt  a  really  kind 
desire  to  relieve  Tony  from  his  evident  depres- 
sion. 

"You  appear  to  have  something  on  your 
mind,"  he  observed.  "If  it  is  anything  I  might 
remove,  pray  call  upon  me,  Tony." 

"Financially?"  queried  his  son,  drily. 

"Certainly,  if  you  wish.  You  are  not  in  the 
least  extravagant.  In  fact,  you  are  a  charming 
contradiction  of  a  great  many  popular  concep- 
tions concerning  those  not  forcibly  employed. ' ' 

"Thank  you.  But  I  wish  you  would  employ 
me,  sir,  if  not  forcibly.  I  want  to  go  away  for  a 
time;  not  just — for  amusement.  Can  you  not 
send  me  somewhere  to  take  charge  of  your  in- 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  81 

terests  instead  of  a  hired  agent?  I  could  learn 
to  help  you,  perhaps." 

The  last  expression  was  unfortunate.  Mr. 
Adriance's  brow  contracted  and  the  cordiality 
left  his  gaze. 

"I  am  not  yet  superannuated,"  he  signified^ 
"When  I  am  in  need  of  help,  I  will  ask  it,  Tony. 
Naturally  I  intend  training  you  to  take  charge 
of  your  own  affairs  after  my  death.  You  will 
find  that  quite  enough  to  occupy  you,  some  day. 
I  am  sorry  if  you  are  unable  to  amuse  yourself, 
already.  Next  year,  if  you  like,  we  will  take  up 
the  matter  of  your  business  education.  This 
year,  I  shall  be  too  busy.  You  are  young  and 
I  am  not  old. ' ' 

His  glance  turned  toward  a  mirror  set  in  a 
buffet  opposite.  The  face  reflected  was  clear  in 
outline,  firm  to  the  verge  of  hardness ;  the  eyes 
full  and  alert,  the  carefully  brushed  hair  so 
abundant  that  its  grayness  gave  dignity  without 
the  effect  of  age.  Self -appreciation  touched  Mr. 
Adriance's  lip  with  a  smile,  as  he  gazed,  smooth- 
ing away  his  slight  annoyance.  His  son,  tracing 
that  glance,  felt  a  movement  of  kindred  admira- 
tion and  a  renewed  sense  of  his  own  personal 
6 


82  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

inadequacy.  Tony  Adriance  had  accomplished 
nothing,  yet  he  was  already  tired.  How  would 
he  look  when  he  was  thirty  years  older  ?  Hardly 
like  that,  he  feared.  Nor  would  Fred  Masterson ! 
"Whose  was  the  fault,  and  what  the  remedy? 

Mr.  Adriance,  returning  to  his  coffee,  sur- 
prised the  other's  observation  of  him,  and 
shrugged  an  unembarrassed  acceptance  of  the 
verdict. 

"We  have  plenty  of  time,  you  see,"  he  re- 
marked. "Moreover,  you  are  hardly  ready  for 
abstract  affairs.  You  are  not  sufficiently  settled. 
After  you  are  married  that  will  come.  I  myself 
married  young.  Marriage  makes  private  life 
sufficiently  monotonous  not  to  interfere  with  the 
conduct  of  outside  matters  of  importance." 

"Does  it?"  speculated  Tony,  doubtingly. 

"It  should.  Monotony  is  closer  to  content 
than  is  agitation,  would  you  not  say?" 

"Doesn't  that  depend  on  the  kind  of  monot- 
ony?" 

"Surely.  That  is  why  each  man  should 
choose  his  own  wife." 

"I  see.  If  I  ever  choose  a  wife,  I  shall  re- 
member the  advice." 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  83 

This  time  Mr.  Adriance  was  astonished.  He 
did  not  miss  the  significance  of  the  remark,  or 
the  alteration  in  Tony  since  the  previous  day, 
when  he  had  last  seen  him.  It  was  not  possible 
to  be  explicit  in  a  matter  so  delicate,  especially 
with  servants  present ;  but  his  curiosity  was  not 
to  be  denied. 

"You  have  not — reached  that  point?  I  had 
fancied " 

"I  have  no  such  engagement  at  present," 
was  the  steady  reply. 

Mr.  Adriance  pushed  away  his  finger  bowl 
and  allowed  his  cigar  to  be  lighted  by  the  defer- 
ential automaton  behind  his  chair. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said. 

His  son  did  not  misunderstand  him ;  in  fact, 
he  understood  more  clearly  than  perhaps  did  the 
older  man  himself.  Mr.  Adriance  had  chosen 
the  hostess  he  wanted  for  his  house,  or  rather, 
he  had  been  enchanted  by  Tony's  supposed 
choice.  Lucille  Masterson  filled  his  ideal  of  his 
son's  wife.  Her  loveliness  would  be  a  point  of 
pride;  her  social  experience  would  make  her 
competent  for  the  position;  moreover,  she  was 
too  clever  not  to  have  courted  and  won  the 


84  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

genuine  liking  of  Tony's  father  long  ago.  Fred 
Masterson  was  hardly  considered,  except  as  an 
obstacle  readily  removed,  when  the  proper  time 
came.  And  now,  Tony  himself  was  overturning 
all  the  pleasant  family  life  that  Mr.  Adriance 
had  planned.  He  knew  that  his  father  never 
willingly  relinquished  a  perfected  plan;  rarely, 
indeed,  was  he  turned  aside  from  a  purpose  on 
which  his  mind  was  fixed. 

"Perhaps  you  will  reconsider  that  state- 
ment later,"  Mr.  Adriance  presently  suggested. 

1 '  I  think  not,  in  the  sense  you  mean, ' '  he  made 
slow  reply. 

Mr.  Adriance  raised  himself  abruptly. 

"I  hope  so,"  he  said,  with  a  touch  of  sharp- 
ness ;  "I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  grow  irreso- 
lute and  changeable,  Tony.  I  detest  weakness  of 
character.  Perhaps  you  had  better  take  a  trip 
somewhere  and  get  yourself  in  tone." 

"Perhaps,"  Tony  agreed;  his  voice  was  not 
yielding,  but  sullen  and  desperate. 

Indeed,  he  was  as  near  illness  as  a  man  may 
be  without  physical  injury  or  disease.  After  his 
father  had  left  the  breakfast-room  he  sat  for  a 
long  time  in  utter  mental  incapacity  to  under- 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  85 

take  any  line  of  effort.  Finally  he  arose,  op- 
pressed with  a  sense  of  suffocation  in  the  rich, 
sombre  atmosphere;  of  imprisonment  and  help- 
lessness. He  wanted  air  and  solitude,  the  soli- 
tude he  had  come  to  the  breakfast-room  to 
escape,  and  he  could  think  of  no  place  where  he 
could  be  so  well  assured  of  both  as  in  his  motor- 
car. 

In  his  abstraction  he  walked  bareheaded 
and  without  an  overcoat  across  the  frozen  stretch 
of  lawn  between  the  house  and  the  garage.  He 
was  quite  indifferent  to  the  weather ;  his  chauf- 
feur put  him  into  furs  and  passed  him  his  gloves 
and  cap  as  a  matter  of  course,  or  he  might  have 
fared  forth  poorly  equipped  to  meet  the  wind 
and  storm. 

He  swung  his  machine  from  the  cement  in- 
cline into  the  street  and  turned  across  Broad- 
way. He  did  not  wish  to  pass  Elsie  Murray 
ensconced  in  the  park  pavilion  with  Holly  Mas- 
terson  at  her  knees;  yet  his  thoughts  were  so 
swayed  by  her  that  when  he  reached  One  Hun- 
dred and  Thirtieth  Street  he  turned  west  again 
and  took  the  ferry  across  the  Hudson.  He  had  no 
better  reason  for  doing  so  than  the  tranquillity 


86  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

and  content  she  seemed  to  draw  from  contem- 
plating the  opposite  shore. 

He  sped  up  Fort  Lee  hill  with  a  crowd  of 
other  cars,  turned  west  and  north  to  escape  their 
companionship  and  all  the  landmarks  he  knew. 
He  avoided  the  main  highway  and  chose  mere 
cross  and  hill  roads  and  lanes.  Always  he  had 
before  him  the  vivid,  pretty  face  of  Lucille,  the 
tired  young  face  of  Masterson  and  the  gray  eyes 
of  Elsie  Murray. 

A  nurse-maid!  The  girl  who  had  told  him 
the  legend  of  Eaoul  Galvez,  the  girl  by  whose 
standard  he  had  come  to  measure  himself  and 
his  companions  and  who  had  fixed  the  sluggish 
attention  of  his  conscience  upon  the  mischief 
being  wrought  by  his  yielding  good  nature — that 
girl  was  Lucille 's  nurse-maid.  That  amaze- 
ment of  the  night  before  remained  with  him, 
coloring  all  other  emotions.  He  had  come  out 
to  arrange  his  thoughts,  but  the  hours  passed 
and  they  remained  in  chaotic  condition. 

Near  noon  he  was  running  through  a  narrow 
woodland  track  when  a  bend  in  the  road  suddenly 
revealed  his  way  blockaded  by  an  enormous 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  87 

wagon  that  stood  before  him.  It  was  a  moving 
van ;  its  canvas  sides  distended  by  bulky  furni- 
ture and  household  fittings,  its  rear  doors  tied 
open  to  allow  a  huge  old-fashioned  cupboard  to 
stand  between.  Adriance  brought  his  machine 
to  an  abrupt  halt. 

"Clear  the  way  there,"  he  impatiently 
shouted  to  the  invisible  driver;  "what  is  the 
matter — broken  down?" 

The  answer  came,  not  from  the  concealed 
front  of  the  van,  but  from  the  bank  bordering 
on  the  side  of  the  road. 

"All  right ;  but  ain't  it  a  shame  that  you  blew 
in  at  dinner-time!" 

The  reply  was  unexpected ;  Adriance  looked 
towards  the  complainant's  voice.  In  the  shelter 
of  a  big  boulder  that  gave  some  protection  from 
the  wind,  three' men  were  seated,  each  with  a 
leather  lunch-box  on  his  knee.  Two  of  them 
wore  the  striped  aprons  of  moving-men;  the 
third  evidently  was  the  spokesman  and  the 
driver.  All  three  held  various  portions  of  food 
and  stared  down  at  the  intruder  in  the  attitude 
in  which  his  advance  had  arrested  them. 


88  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"It  ain't  as  if  we  could  just  turn  out,"  the 
driver  pursued,  not  resentfully  but  with  an  im- 
personal disgust.  He  put  the  apple  in  his  hand 
back  into  his  lunch-box  and  stood  up.  "We've 
got  to  go  on  a  mile  before  there's  room  for  you 
to  pass.  Come  on,  boys. ' ' 

"No,"  Adriance  aroused  himself  from  self- 
absorption  to  forbid  the  upheaval.  "I  am  in  no 
hurry;  finish  your  lunch,  and  I  will  wait." 

The  three  on  the  bank  stared  harder. 

"You're  a  sport,"  complimented  the  driver; 
"but  it  ain't  more  than  five  minutes  after 
twelve." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?  Oh,  I  see; 
you  mean  that  you  rest  until  one!" 

"You're  on." 

"Well,  I  said  that  I  was  not  in  a  hurry,"  he 
accepted  the  delay  he  had  not  contemplated. 
"Take  your  rest  and  I  will  smoke." 

The  three  men  regarded  each  other,  then  the 
driver  slowly  sat  down.  The  munching  horses 
were  blanketed  against  the  cold,  but  the  men 
appeared  careless  of  temperature.  They  ob- 
viously were  constrained  by  the  presence  of  the 
man  in  the  automobile,  however. 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  89 

"This  road  ain't  much  used,"  the  driver 
ventured  presently.  * '  We  're  taking  this  load  to 
a  farmhouse  up  here  a  ways.  That's  why  we 
thought  we  could  stop  traffic  without  being 
noticed." 

His  round,  bright  eyes  asked  a  question  that 
Adriance  answered  with  doubtful  truthfulness. 

"I  lost  my  way." 

"Oh!"  The  driver  paused,  then  suddenly 
slid  down  the  bank. 

"Ain't  we  the  hogs,"  he  observed  deprecat- 
ingly,  coming  up  to  the  side  of  the  car  and  offer- 
ing his  lunch-box.  * '  Won 't  you  eat  1 ' ' 

The  tired,  dark-blue  eyes  of  Tony  Adriance 
met  the  cheerful,  light-blue  eyes  of  the  other  man. 
The  two  men  were  about  the  same  age,  and  one 
of  them  was  desperately  lonely  and  sick  of  his 
own  thoughts.  They  both  smiled  involuntarily. 

"Thanks,  I  will,"  said  Adriance;  and  took 
a  thick,  rye  bread  sandwich  from  the  box  pre- 
sented. The  driver  sat  down  on  the  running- 
board  of  the  automobile  and  there  ensued  a  well- 
employed  silence. 

The  sandwich  was  excellent.  Adriance  had 
eaten  little  breakfast;  yet,  left  to  himself,  lie 


90  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

would  hardly  have  thought  of  food  in  his  bitter 
preoccupation;  but  it  did  him  good.  The  ham 
smeared  with  cheap  mustard  had  a  zest  of  its 
own,  a  little  brutal,  perhaps,  but  effective.  It 
was  a  generously  designed  sandwich,  too,  not  a 
frail  wafer.  He  ate  it  all,  even  the  acrid  crust. 

"  'Nother?"  invited  the  host. 

"No,  thanks;  but  that  one  tasted  good." 
Adriance  drew  out  his  cigar-case.  "Won't  you 
all  have  a  smoke  with  me,  now?" 

The  cigars  were  passed  and  lighted.  Before 
returning  the  case,  the  driver  frankly  inspected 
the  fine  leather  toy  with  the  tiny  monogram  in 
one  corner. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  approved,  returning 
it  to  its  owner.  "I  was  afraid  you'd  pull  out  a 
little  gold  box  of  cigarettes." 

"Why?"  amused. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  my  luck,  I  guess." 

"You  don't  like  them?" 

* l  Me  ?  I  got  a  pipe  three  years  old  that  holds 
some  tobacco — that  for  me.  But  this  cigar  is  all 
right.  Ever  try  a  pipe?" 

"Yes." 

The  driver  leaned  back  comfortably  against 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  91 

the  spare  tire  strapped  beside  the  car,  gazing 
up  at  the  gray,  cold  sky. 

"A  pipe,  my  feet  on  the  kitchen  stove,  the 
kids  and  the  missus — me  for  that,  nights." 

Adriance  looked  at  him  with  startled 
scrutiny.  Almost  he  could  have  imagined  that 
Elsie  Murray  had  come  to  the  man's  side  and 
prompted  him.  What,  was^  it  then  real  and  usual, 
that  homely  content  she  once  had  painted  so 
vividly?  Did  most  men  have  such  homes! 

"You're  married?"  he  vaguely  asked. 

"Sure,  these  five  years;  we  got  two  kids." 
The  boyish  driver  chuckled  and  shook  his  head 
reminiscently.  "Darn  little  tykes!  What  they 
ain't  up  to  I  don't  know.  Dragged  a  big  bull 
pup  in  off  the  street  last  week,  they  did,  and 
scared  the  missus  into  fits.  Pete — he's  four — 
had  it  by  the  collar  bold  as  brass,  and  it  ugly 
enough  to  scare  you.  Say,  I'm  trying  one  of 
those  schemes  for  training  kids  on  him;  exer- 
cising him,  you  know.  You  ought  to  see  the 
muscles  he's  got  already,  arms  and  legs  hard  as 
nails.  Think  it  will  work  all  right?" 

Adriance  looked  down  into  the  eager  face. 


92  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Yes,  I  do,"  he  said  slowly.  "You  cannot 
be  more  than  twenty-five  or  six 1" 

"Twenty-five  is  right." 

"You  must  have  worked  pretty  hard!" 

"Ever  since  I  was  fourteen,"  was  the  cheer- 
ful assent.  He  pulled  out  a  watch  of  the  dollar 
variety  and  looked  at  it.  "One  o'clock  it  is! 
We'll  get  along  again,  boys.  Yes,  I've  been 
busy.  But  the  missus  and  I  are  saving  up. 
Some  day  I'm  going  to  have  a  trucking  business 
of  my  own;  there's;  good  money  in  it.  Well, 
we're  sure  obliged  to  you  for  waiting  for  us." 

The  other  two  men  were  coming  down  the 
bank.  Adriance  drew  off  his  glove  and  held  out 
his  hand  to  his  acquaintance. 

* '  I  am  glad  I  met  you.    Good  luck ! ' ' 

' '  Same  to  you ! ' '  He  pulled  off  his  mitten  to 
give  the  clasp.  "Are  you  going  to  the  ferry?" 

"I— I—?   Yes." 

"Well,  turn  off  when  you  get  to  the  next 
road.  It's  a  poor  one,  but  it's  a  short  cut  to  the 
Palisades  road." 

The  horses  were  unblanketed  and  the  bags 
which  had  held  their  luncheon  removed.  Thd 
men  climbed  into  their  places,  and  presently 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  93 

"Adriance's  lusty  machine  was  rebellionsly 
crawling  on  behind  the  moving- van. 

At  the  end  of  a  mile  they  came  to  the  side 
road,  and  parted  with  cheerful  shouts  of  fare- 
well. 

It  was  impossible  to  measure  the  good  that 
interlude  of  healthy  companionship  had  done  to 
Tony  Adriance.  It  had  swept  aside  vapors, 
cleared  his  mind  to  normality,  invigorated  him 
like  a  pungent  tonic.  Yet  it  had  laid  a  reproach 
upon  Tn'm.  He  contrasted  himself  with  that  boy- 
ish husband  and  father;  yes,  contrasted  Mr. 
Adriance,  senior,  with  that  driver  who  was 
anxiously  training  his  son's  body  by  his  own 
efforts  after  the  day 's  work.  He  could  not  recol- 
lect his  father  ever  playing  with  him  or  seriously 
advising  him.  Even  Fred  Masterson  was  doing 
better. 

The  road  debouched  abruptly  upon  the  main 
highway.  A  passing  automobile  momentarily 
delayed  Adriance,  and  looking  idly  across  the 
way,  he  perceived  a  house.  After  the  other  car 
had  passed  and  the  way  was  open,  he  sat  quite 
still  in  his  machine,  gazing. 

There  was  nothing  about  the  house  before 


94  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

him  to  catch  the  eye  except  a  certain  air  of  quaint 
sturdiness  that  had  survived  desertion.  It  was 
rather  a  cottage  than  a  house,  bearing  a  sign 
"For  Sale,"  and  unoccupied.  It  was  a  red- 
painted  cottage,  built  in  that  absurd  Gothic 
fashion  once  favored  by  some  insane  builders. 
Its  ridiculous  roof  and  windows  were  highly 
peaked;  its  high,  narrow  porch  had  a  pointed 
top  like  a  caricature  of  the  entrance  to  Notre 
Dame  de  Paris.  It  stood  quite  back  from  the 
road  with  an  air  of  abandonment;  but  it  was 
unconquerably  cheerful,  even  against  the  gray 
sky.  It  was  a  house  that  wanted  to  be  cosy. 

Suddenly  Adriance  realized  that  he  was  very 
tired.  He  was  not  ready  to  go  home;  he  even 
thought  with  abhorrence  of  going  there.  Yet  he 
was  weary  of  guiding  his  machine  along  the 
highway.  He  left  his  seat  and  walked  up  the 
wood  path — two  planks  in  width — leading  to 
the  cottage.  The  windows  gaped,  uncurtained; 
he  looked  in,  then  deliberately  seated  himself 
upon  the  step  and  lapsed  into  heavy  revery. 

There  were  few  passers-by  on  such  a  day. 
Those  who  were  compelled  to  the  road  lingered 
in  the  cold  to  look  curiously  at  the  automobile 


THE  LITTLE  RED  HOUSE  95 

standing  by  the  gutter  and  at  the  young  man 
who  sat  on  the  old  wooden  step. 

It  was  four  o  'clock  when  Tony  Adriance  rose 
and  went  back  to  his  automobile.  He  did  not 
turn  down  to  the  ferry,  but  looked  again  at  the 
signboard  on  the  house ;  then  turned  his  machine 
about  and  drove  to  an  address  which  was  seven 
miles  inland. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE 

TONY  ADRIANCE  had  not  really  heeded  the 
weather  until  he  found  his  way  to  the  stone 
pavilion  on  Eiverside  Drive  at  dusk  that  even- 
ing. Cold  and  wind  had  recorded  slight  impres- 
sion on  his  preoccupied  mind  and  his  healthy 
body.  Indeed,  his  feeling  was  that  of  a  man  pass- 
ing through  a  fever,  rather  than  one  chilled.  And 
he  was  hot  with  a  savage  sense  of  victory,  for 
he  brought  decision  back  with  him.  He  knew, 
at  last,  what  he  meant  to  do. 

He  was  brought  to  heed  the  weather  by  his 
need  of  seeing  the  girl  who  was  Holly's  nurse. 
He  stood  for  a  while  in  the  pavilion,  after  realiz- 
ing the  absurdity  of  expecting  to  find  her,  and 
considered.  He  was  accustomed  to  having  his 
own  way;  hardly  likely  to  abandon  it  when  his 
necessity  loomed  urgent.  His  distrust  of  him- 
self was  deep,  if  unconfessed ;  he  dared  not  wait 
until  the  next  day.  Besides,  the  storm  might 
continue.  After  a  brief  pause  of  bafflement,  he 
walked  up  to  Broadway,  found  a  stationer's 

96 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE  97 

shop  and  a  messenger,  and  dispatched  a  note  to 
Miss  Elsie  Murray.  He  looked  curiously  at  the 
name,  after  it  was  written;  it  seemed  so  soft, 
even  childish,  matched  with  that  steadfastness 
of  hers  to  which  he  held  as  to  the  one  stable 
thing  in  his  knowledge. 

Would  she  come?  The  doubt  bore  him  com- 
pany on  his  way  back  to  the  pavilion.  Could  she 
free  herself  from  duties  to  come,  if  she  wished? 
He  did  not  know,  but  he  was  obstinately  resolved 
to  see  her  that  night.  He  was  indeed  like  a  man 
in  a  fever ;  one  idea  consumed  him. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed;  a  half  hour. 
Dusk,  their  hour  of  adventure  fixed  by  chance, 
had  almost  darkened  to  night  when  Adriance 
saw  the  small  figure  for  which  he  watched  step 
from  the  curb.  She  hurried,  almost  ran  across 
the  broad  avenue,  the  wind  wrapping  her  gar- 
ments around  her. 

' '  Thank  you, ' '  the  man  greeted  her,  his  grati- 
tude very  earnest. 

The  girl  brushed  aside  his  speech  with  a 
gesture.  She  was  breathing  rapidly;  amid  all 
the  shadows  her  face  showed  white  and  small. 

"Of  course  I  came,"  she  said.    "It  was  not 


98  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

easy — to  come.  I  cannot  stay  long.  But  I 
knew  you  would  not  have  sent  unless  it  was 
important." 

"No,"  he  affirmed,  and  paused.  "I  wonder 
why  you  are  there  ?  I  mean,  why  are  you  some- 
body 's  nurse,  to  be  ordered  about  when  you 
could  do  so  much  better  things?  Of  course,  I 
can  see  how  different  you  are ! ' ' 

He  stopped,  with  a  sense  of  alarmed  clumsi- 
ness. Because  she  was  weary,  the  girl  sat  down 
on  the  cold  stone  bench  before  answering. 

"You  are  quite  wrong,"  she  said  quietly. 
"I  cannot  do  clever  things  at  all.  I  do  not  mean 
that  I  am  stupid,  exactly,  but  that  I  cannot  do 
anything  so  especially  well  as  to  make  people  pay 
me  for  it.  Neither  can  my  father.  I  think  he 
is  the  best  man  in  the  world,  and  my  mother  the 
dearest  woman,  but  they  cannot  make  money. 
He  is  a  professor  of  romance  and  history,  at  a 
small  college  in  Louisiana.  There  are  a  good 
many  of  us — I  have  four  younger  sisters — so  I 
came  North  to  support  myself. '  ' 

"But " 

"Not  as  a  nurse,  of  course.  I  came  with  an 
old  lady  whose  son  we  knew  at  the  college.  She 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE  99 

asked  me  to  be  her  private  secretary.  But  after 
a  few  months  she  died.  I  could  not  go  back  to  be 
a  burden.  After  I  had  tried  to  find  other  things 
to  do,  and  failed,  I  came  to  take  care  of  Holly. 
Why  are  we  talking  about  me  ?  There  was  some- 
thing important,  you  said?" 

"I — yes,"  Adriance  said.  He  could  read  so 
much  more  than  she  told.  Afterward  he  was 
ashamed  to  remember  that  he  neither  felt  nor 
expressed  any  pity  for  her  disappointed  hopes. 
His  whole  attention  was  fixed  on  her  steady 
courage;  the  fighting  spirit  that  he  had  divined 
in  her  and  toward  which  his  indecision  reached 
weak  hands  groping  in  the  dark  for  support. 

The  girl  shrank  behind  the  stone  column 
nearest  her  as  a  blast  of  freezing  wind  rushed 
past. 

"Well?"  she  spurred  his  hesitation. 

She  was  successful.  He  moved  nearer  her  to 
be  heard ;  the  fever  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours 
thickened  and  hurried  his  speech. 

"I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  about  Mrs.  Mas- 
terson,"  he  told  her.  "In  the  first  place,  you 
would  not  listen,  and  in  the  second  place,  I  have 
nothing  to  say.  But  you  must  know  that  last 


100  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

evening  she  broke  her  engagement  with  me.  I 
mean,  before  I  saw  you  in  the  nursery.  I  was 
free,  then." 

"She  dismissed  you?" 

He  had  deliberately  thought  out  the  false- 
hood that  protected  Lucille  Masterson  at  his  own 
expense.  But  it  was  harder  than  he  had  antici- 
pated to  play  this  weak  role  before  Elsie  Murray. 

"Yes,"  he  forced  the  difficult  acknowledg- 
ment. 

"You  need  not  have  told  me  that,"  her  slow 
reply  crossed  the  darkness  to  him.  ' '  I  know  it  is 
not  true.  And  I  know  what  is  true.  It  does  not 
matter  how  I — learned.  But  we  may  as  well 
speak  honestly." 

He  could  have  cried  out  in  his  great  relief. 
Instead,  he  seized  the  offered  privilege  of  speech. 

"I  will,  then!  You  know  what  I  have  done 
to  Fred  Masterson.  I  brought  the  glamour  of 
money,  of  what  I  could  buy,  into  his  household 
and  made  his  wife  awake  to  discontent  and  am- 
bition. I  didn  't  know  what  mischief  I  was  work- 
ing, until  too  late.  I  did  not  understand  some  of 
it  until  last  night.  Now,  what?  Suppose  I  go 
away?  Where  can  I  go?  Abroad,  or  on  a  hunt- 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE  101 

ing  trip?  "While  I  was  gone  she  would  get  the 
divorce,  when  I  came  back  she  and  the  rest  would 
push  me  into  the  marriage.  My  own  father  is 
pushing  me.  Everyone  pities  her  and  thinks  the 
thing  is  suitable.  You  don't  know  me!  I  like 
her,  and  I'm  easily  pushed.  I  tell  you  I  never 
did  anything  but  drift,  until  last  night.  I  am 
afraid  of  myself,  yet." 

"Then,  why  have  you  sent  for  me?"  she 
asked,  after  a  silence. 

There  was  as  much  sullenness  as  resolution  in 
the  unconscious  gesture  with  which  he  folded  his 
arms. 

'  *  Because  I  mean  to  stop  this  thing.  Because 
I  am  going  to  take  my  own  way  for  the  rest  of 
the  journey  instead  of  being  pushed  and  pulled. 
I  quit,  to-night. ' ' 

"How?    What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  am  leaving  the  position  where  I  am  not 
strong  enough  to  stand  firm.  And  because  I 
know  myself,  I  am  fixing  it  so  I  cannot  go  back. 
You" — he  stumbled  over  the  word — "you  are 
not  much  better  off  than  I,  so  far  as  getting  what 
you  want  out  of  life  is  concerned.  Bo  you  want 
— will  you  try  the  venture  with  me  f  I  think,  I  'm 


102  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

sure  I  could  keep  my  half  of  a  home.  You  once 
said  you  would  like  to  be  a  poor  man's  wife " 

The  last  word  died  away  as  if  its  boldness 
hushed  him  with  a  sense  of  what  he  asked  so 
readily.  The  girl  rose  to  her  feet,  swaying 
slightly  in  the  strong  wind ;  her  fingers  gripped 
the  stone  railing  behind  her  while  she  strove  to 
see  his  face  through  the  dark.  A  street  lamp 
sent  a  faint  grayness  into  the  pavilion,  but  he 
stood  in  shadows. 

"You — are  asking — me ?" 

He  laughed  shortly  to  cover  his  own  embar- 
rassment. 

"To  marry  a  man  who  isn't  much  more  than 
a  chauffeur  out  of  work !  Driving  a  car  is  my 
only  way  of  earning  money,  just  now.  Of  course, 
if  we  go  away  together  we  will  have  to  live  on 
what  I  can  bring  in.  It's  not  very  dazzling,  but 
neither  is  being  a  nurse." 

Comprehension  slowly  came  to  her. 

"You  would  do  this  so  you  never  could  go 
back,"  she  whispered,  half  to  herself.  "To  be 
cut  off  from  everyone,  because  of  me!" 

"Not  that!"  he  offered  quick  apology. 
"Why,  you  are  above  me  by  every  count  I  can 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE  103 

make!    No,  it  is  because  I  can't  stand  alone. 
And,  of  course — if  I  were  married " 

"Mrs.  Masterson  would  give  her  husband 
another  chance,"  she  finished. 

He  could  not  see  her  expression,  but  he  felt 
her  bitterness,  and  that  he  was  losing. 

"Don't  be  offended,"  he  appealed.  "I 
thought  we  could  be  good  friends — why,  if  I  did 
not  respect  and — and  admire  you,  would  I  be 
asking  to  spend  my  life  with  you?  I  know  I  am 
not  offering  you  much,  but  it's  my  best." 

"You  do  not  love  me." 

He  bent  his  head  to  the  assertion ;  for  it  was 
an  assertion,  not  a  question.  After  the  daz- 
zling companionship  of  Lucille  Masterson,  love 
was  scarcely  an  emotion  he  could  associate  with 
the  grave,  quiet  little  figure  of  Elsie  Murray. 
He  was  surprised  and  embarrassed  anew,  and 
showed  it. 

"I  am  not  very  sentimental,  I'm  afraid. 
Couldn't  we  start  with  friendship?  I'll  try  to 
make  a  good  comrade  for  everyday." 

The  delay  was  long,  so  long  that  he  antici- 
pated the  refusal  and  felt  his  heart  sink  with  a 
sense  of  loss  and  apprehension.  All  his  plans, 


104  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

lie  suddenly  realized,  were  founded  upon  a 
strength  drawn  from  her.  He  felt  the  tremor 
of  his  structure  of  resolution,  with  that  support 
withdrawn.  Unreasonable  bitterness  surged 
over  him.  Even  she  would  not  have  him,  penni- 
less. 

She  was  shivering.  He  noticed  that,  when 
she  spoke. 

"You  wish  us  to  understand  each  other?" 
she  said,  her  voice  quite  steady.  "Very  well. 
Remember,  then,  I  never  knew  who  you  were 
until  last  night.  You  were  just  a  man  who 
seemed  lonely,  as  I  was  just  a  woman  alone. 
Remember  that  I  am  human,  too,  and  imagine 
things,  and  how  monotonous  it  is  to  be  a  nurse 
and  do  the  same  things  every  day.  I  thought 
you  talked  to  me  and  came  so  often  because  you 
were  commencing  to  like  me.  Once  you  bought 
violets  from  a  man  on  the  corner,  then  threw 
them  away  before  you  crossed  to  me.  I  knew 
you  meant  them  for  me,  but  feared  I  would  not 
like  you  to  give  them  to  me.  I  liked  you  better 
for  throwing  them  away  than  for  buying  them. 
I  was — foolish.  And  I  cannot  marry  you,  be- 
cause you  do  not  love  me,  while  I — might  you." 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE  105 

With  the  last  low  word,  she  passed  him  and 
went  from  the  pavilion,  not  in  running  flight, 
but  with  the  swift,  certain  step,  of  finality. 
Adriance  was  left  standing,  struck  out  of  articu- 
late thought.  The  astounding  blow  had  fallen 
among  his  accumulated  ideas  and  scattered  them 
like  dust.  She  loved  him.  Slowly  stupefaction 
gave  place  to  hot  shame  for  the  insult  of  his 
proposal  to  her.  He  had  been  coarse,  selfish 
beyond  belief  and  wrapped  in  egotism.  He  had 
asked  her  to  be  his  wife  with  the  grace  of  one 
engaging  a  housemaid.  And  he  might  have 
had  the  unbelievable !  A  slow-rising  excitement 
mounted  through  him;  a  tingling,  vivifying  in- 
terest in  the  future  he  had  faced  with  such  sullen 
indifference. 

She  was  gone  from  sight.  Adriance  was  not 
rapid  of  thought,  or  readjustment.  But  he  knew 
where  to  look  for  her,  now.  He  sprang  from  the 
pavilion  and  ran,  throwing  his  weight  against 
the  wind's  blustering  opposition.  The  physical 
effort,  in  that  stinging  air,  sent  his  blood  racing 
with  tonic  exhilaration.  He  felt  dulness  and 
morbidity  dropping  away  from  him ;  zest  of  life 
taking  their  place. 


106  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  girl  was  crossing  a  dark  little  strip  of 
park  that  lay  before  the  house  where  the  Mas- 
ters ons  lived,  when  he  overtook  her. 

"Elsie  Murray!"  he  panted.  /'Elsie 
Murray ! '  ' 

His  voice  had  changed,  and  his  accent.  He 
spoke  to  her  possessively;  he  no  longer  de- 
pended, he  directed.  Instantly  sensitive  to  the 
difference,  the  girl  stopped. 

"Are  you  running  away  from  me,  Elsie 
Murray?"  His  hand  closed  lightly  on  her  arm, 
he  stood  over  her  with  the  advantage  of  his 
superior  height,  and  she  heard  him  draw  the 
cold  air  deeply  into  his  lungs.  "I  did  not  tell 
you  the  truth,  back  there.  I  meant  to,  but  I  did 
not  know  it  myself.  I  want  what  you  might  give, 
and  I  want  to  give  as  much  to  you.  Why,  do 
you  know  what  started  me  toward  ending  all 
this  bad  business,  what  has  given  me  the  will 
to  keep  on?  It  was  what  you  said,  the  first  night 
I  saw  you,  about  a  woman  waiting  for  her  hus- 
band, with  the  lamps  lit,  and  all.  I  can't  say 
what  I  mean — I'm  clumsy!  But,  will  you  come 
keep  the  lamp  for  me?" 

She  tried  to  speak,  but  to  his  dismay  and 


THE  WOMAN  WHO  GAVE  107 

her  own,  instead  covered  her  face ;  not  weeping, 
but  fiercely  struggling  not  to  weep. 

"No,  "she  flung  refusal  at  him.    "No!  No!" 

As  her  firmness  lessened,  his  gained.  She 
looked  pitiful  and  helpless,  she,  his  tower  of 
strength.  Suddenly,  protectingly,  he  caught  her 
from  the  assault  of  a  violent  swirl  of  the  gale ; 
caught  and  held  her  against  him,  in  the  curve 
of  his  arm. 

"If  you  may  love  me,  and  I  want  you,  we 
have  enough  to  start  with,"  he  gently  insisted. 
"I  promise  you  I'll  do  my  part.  Will  you  try 
it  with  me?" 

She  remained  still.  But  the  long  pause,  the 
contact  between  them,  joined  with  the  change 
in  the  man  and  helped  him. 

"Will  you  marry  me  to-night?"  he  pressed. 

She  drew  away  from  him  with  a  flare  of  her 
natural  resolution. 

"  No !    Not  to-night,  if  you  could ! ' ' 

* '  To-morrow,  then ! ' ' 

*  *  Go  home, ' '  she  bade  him.  * '  Go  home ;  think 
of  everything — of  what  you  have  and  what  you 
would  leave,  of  all  you  want  and  must  miss. 
Think.  And  if,  to-morrow " 


108  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Yesf'1 

"  If  you  are  sure,  come  back.  I may  try 

it." 

He  knew  better  than  to  force  her  further. 

' '  To-morrow,  then,  I  will  meet  you  at  noon, 
in  the  pavilion,"  he  yielded,  quietly,  in  spite  of 
his  leaping  excitement.  "And  there  is  some- 
thing else.  Once  I  bought  these,  for  you.  Of 
course  I  dared  not  give  them  to  you,  afterward. 
But  I  did  not  throw  them  away,  and  I  brought 
them  in  my  pocket  to-night.  Perhaps  you  will 
wear  them  to-morrow,  when  we  go  away. ' ' 

The  storm  swooped  down  again.  This  time 
he  did  not  hold  her  from  the  gust,  and  she  flitted 
with  it  into  the  darkness.  But  she  took  the  little 
package  he  had  pressed  into  her  hands ;  she  had 
at  last  the  little  pair  of  buckled  shoes. 


CHAPTER 
THE  DABING  ADVENTURE 

THEY  were  married  at  two  o'clock  the  next 
day.  The  wedding  was  in  church,  at  Elsie  Mur- 
ray's desire.  With  a  certain  defiance  expressive 
of  his  attitude  toward  all  the  world,  Adriance, 
after  obtaining  their  license,  took  her  to  the 
rector  of  that  costly  and  fashion-approved  cathe- 
dral which  the  Adriance  s  graced  with  their  mem- 
bership and<  occasional  attendance.  Of  course 
the  two  were  met  with  astonishment,  but  there 
was  a  decision  in  the  young  man's  speech  and 
bearing  that  forbade  interference.  The  clergy- 
man did  not  find  the  familiar,  easy,  good- 
natured  Tony  Adriance  in  the  man  who  curtly 
silenced  delicate  allusion  to  the  wedding's  un- 
expectedness and  the  surprising  absence  of  Mr. 
Adriance,  senior. 

"I  am  over  age,  and  so  is  Miss  Murray," 
was  the  brief  statement,  whose  finality  ended 
comment.  "Will  you  be  good  enough  not  to 
delay  us ;  we  are  leaving  town?" 

109 


110  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

There  were  no  more  objections.  Of  course 
the  bride  was  not  recognized  as  Mrs.  Master- 
son  's  nurse;  she  simply  was  an  unknown  girl. 
And  she  did  not  in  any  way  suggest  that  Mr. 
Adriance  was  marrying  out  of  his  world. 
Adriance  himself  entirely  approved  of  her  in 
this  new  role.  He  liked  her  dark-blue  suit  with 
its  relieving  white  at  throat  and  wrists,  and  her 
small  hat  with  a  modest  white  quill  at  just  the 
right  angle.  And  she  wore  the  shining,  Spanish- 
heeled,  small  shoes  of  his  choosing.  He  noticed 
how  large  her  gray  eyes  were,  when  she  lifted 
them  to  his,  large,  and  clear  as  pure  water  is 
clear  under  a  still,  gray  sky.  But  her  heavy 
lashes  threw  shadows  across  them,  as  he  had 
once  seen  lines  of  shadow  lie  across  a  little  lake 
in  Maine  on  an  autumn  day.  He  wondered  if  she 
was  happy,  or  frightened.  He  could  not  tell 
what  she  was  thinking  or  feeling. 

So  they  were  married  before  the  imposing 
altar  of  cream-hued  marble,  and  the  conventional 
notice  went  to  the  newspapers : 

Adriance-Murray.  Elsie  Galvez  Murray  to  Anthony 
Adriance,  Jr.,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Van  Huyden,  at  St.  Dunstan'a 
Cathedral. 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  111 

It  was  very  simply  done,  for  so  daring  an 
adventure. 

When  they  stood  outside,  in  the  sparkling 
autumn  sunshine,  Elsie  Adriance  asked  her  first 
question. 

*  'Where  are  we  going? "  she  wondered,  in  her 
soft,  blurred  speech  that  now  Adriance  recog- 
nized as  of  the  South.  Her  middle  name  had 
caught  his  attention  also.  There  once  had  been 
a  governor  of  Louisiana  called  Galvez;  New 
Orleans  has  a  street  named  for  him. 

But  he  was  not  thinking  of  ancestry  now. 
He  looked  doubtfully  at  his  companion.  In  spite 
of  his  repressed  bearing,  he  was  suffering  a 
terrible  excitement  and  a  tearing  conflict  of 
will  and  desire.  He  was  acutely  conscious  of 
the  finality  of  what  had  been  done ;  and  one  part 
of  him  wished  it  undone.  He  thought  of  his 
father  and  Lucille  as  a  man  in  a  fever  thinks ; 
glimpsing  them  in  a  confusion  of  remembered 
pictures,  conceiving  their  future  attitude  with, 
the  exaggeration  of  his  unreasoning  sense  of 
guilt  and  belated  regret.  He  felt  himself  in 
bonds,  and  the  instinct  of  escape  gripped  and 
shook  him.  But  he  kept  himself  in  hand. 


112  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

" Where  do  you  wish  to  go?"  he  temporized, 
withholding  his  own  wish.  It  became  him  to 
consider  her  first,  now  and  hereafter. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  follow  you,"  she  reminded  him,  quite 
simply  and  gravely.  "Where  would — it  be  easi- 
est for  you?  You  spoke  of  going  out  of  town; 
perhaps  that  would  be  best.  I  think,  it  seems  to 
me,  that  we  should  start  as  we  mean  to  go  on. " 

"Yes!"  he  exclaimed  eagerly.  She  had 
offered  him  his  inmost  desire;  in  his  gratitude 
he  caught  her  hand,  stammering  in  the  rush  of 
words  released.  "Yes.  If  you  will  go,  I  have 
a  house — our  house.  Let  me  tell  you.  Yester- 
day, after  meeting  you  at  Master  son's  the  night 
before,  I  was  at  the  limit.  I  had  to  keep  out  of 
doors  and  keep  moving,  or  go  to  pieces.  I  kept 
seeing  Fred,  and  Holly.  Well,  I  took  a  long 
drive ;  across  the  river,  I  went,  perhaps  because 
you  were  always  looking  over  there  as  if  it  were 
some  kind  of  a  fairyland.  And  on  the  way  back, 
on  the  road  along  the  Palisades,  I  saw  the  house. 
It  was — I  stopped  and  went  in.  It  looked  like  a 
place  you  had  made  a  picture  of.  I  can 't  explain 
what  I  mean,  but  I  sat  down  there  and  thought 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  113 

things  out.  You  won't  be  angry?  I  bought  it. 
Not  that  I  was  so  sure  of  you !  You  see,  if  you 
refused  to  take  me,  I  knew  I  had  money  enough 
to  buy  fifty  like  it  for  a  whim.  And  if  you  would 
come,  it  was  the  house. ' ' 

There  was  no  anger  in  her  glance,  only  a 
heartening  comprehension  and  cordial  willing- 
ness. 

"Let  us  go  there,"  she  agreed.  "I  should 
like  that  best  of  all. ' ' 

Reanimated,  he  put  her  into  the  waiting 
taxicab,  gave  the  chauffeur  his  directions,  and 
closed  the  door  upon  their  first  wedded  solitude. 

"But  this  is  one  of  the  things  we  must  not 
do,"  she  told  him,  bringing  the  relief  of  humor 
to  the  situation.  "We  must  not  take  taxis  and 
let  them  wait  for  us  with  a  price  on  the  head  of 
each  moment.  It  is  more  than  extravagant; 
it  is  reckless." 

He  laughed  out,  surprised. 

"So  it  is.  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  a  lot 
to  teach  me." 

' '  Yes, ' '  she  assumed  the  burden.    ' '  Yes. ' ' 

They  rode  down  to  the  ferry,  and  the  taxicab 
rolled  on  board  the  broad,  unsavory-smelling 


114  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

boat.  When  the  craft  started,  the  vibration  of 
the  engine  sent  a  throbbing  sense  of  departure 
through  Adriance  such  as  he  never  had  felt  in 
starting  a  European  voyage.  This  time  he  could 
not  return.  He  was  humbly  grateful  for  Elsie's 
silence,  which  permitted  his  own. 

On  the  Jersey  side  their  cab  slowly  moved 
through  the  dark  ferry  house,  then  plunged  out 
into  a  sun-drenched  world  and  swung  blithely  up 
to  the  long  Edgewater  hill.  They  left  the  river 
shipping  behind,  presently.  The  sunlight  glit- 
tered through  the  woods  that  still  clothe  the  long, 
rampart-like  stretches  along  the  summit  of  the 
great  cliffs;  a  forest  of  jewels  like  the  subter- 
ranean woods  of  the  Twelve  Dancing  Princesses, 
only  instead  of  silver  and  diamonds  these  trees 
displayed  the  red  of  cornelian  and  brown  of 
topaz  all  set  in  copper  and  bronze.  The  storm 
of  the  night  before  had  littered  the  ground  with 
the  spoils  of  Lady  Autumn's  jewel-box;  the  air 
was  spicily  sweet  and  very  clear. 

The  village  on  the  first  slope  of  the  hills  had 
been  dingy  and  poor.  Here  above,  on  the  heights 
winding  up  the  river,  there  were  few  houses, 
with  long  spaces  between.  Elsie  leaned  at  the 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  115 

window,  her  wide  eyes  embracing  all.  Adriance 
leaned  back,  seeing  nothing. 

The  taxicab  finally  stopped,  nevertheless,  at 
his  signal,  before  a  little  red  cottage  set  far  back 
from  the  road. 

"Here?"  the  chauffeur  queried,  with  in- 
credulous scorn. 

"Here,"  Adriance  affirmed,  swinging  out 
their  two  suit-cases  and  his  wife.  He  laughed 
a  little  at  the  man's  face.  "How  much?" 

The  toll  pointed  Elsie's  warning.  She  made 
a  grimace  at  her  pupil.  His  spirits  mounting 
again,  Adriance  answered  the  rebuke  by  catch- 
ing her  hand  to  lead  her  up  the  absurd,  stagger- 
ing Gothic  porch  in  miniature. 

"I'll  come  back  for  the  baggage,"  he  prom- 
ised. ' '  Come  look,  first. ' ' 

' '  Is  there  anything  inside  1 ' ' 

"Oh,  yes.  I "  he  looked  askance  at  her. 

"I  bought  things,  at  a  shop  in  Fort  Lee,  early 
this  morning.  I  suppose  they're  all  wrong." 

She  met  his  diffidence  with  a  smile  so  warm, 
so  enchanting  in  its  sweet,  maternal  raillery  and 
indulgence  that  his  heart  melted  within  him. 
And  then,  as  he  fumbled  with  the  key,  she  took 


116  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

from  her  hand-bag  a  book  and  a  small  glass 
bottle,  and  gave  them  to  him. 

"What ?"  he  marvelled. 

"Don't  you  know?"  she  wondered  at  him. 
"  '"Where  was  you  done  raised,  man?'  Don't 
you  know  there  is  no  luck  in  the  house  unless 
the  first  things  carried  into  it  are  the  Bible  and 
the  salt?" 

He  did  not  know,  but  he  found  the  supersti- 
tion of  a  singular  charm. 

"Give  me  the  salt,  then,  and  you  take  the 
other,"  he  divided  the  ceremony. 

"No,"  she  denied  quietly.  "You  should 
carry  the  Book,  because  you  will  make  the  laws. 
I  will  take  the  salt,  because  I  shall  keep  the 
hearth. ' ' 

So  they  went  in,  he  oddly  sobered  by  the  dig- 
nity she  laid  upon  him. 

There  were  only  two  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor.  The  one  into  which  they  stepped  was 
large  and  square,  with  a  floor  of  brick  faded  to 
a  mellow  Tuscan  red,  and  walls  of  soft  brown 
plaster.  A  brick  fireplace  was  built  against  the 
north  side;  the  furnishings  comprehended  two 
arm-chairs,  a  round  Sheraton  table  and  china 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  117 

closet,  a  tall  wooden  clock,  and  four  rag  rugs 
in  red  and  white.  In  one  corner,  modestly  re- 
tired, a  plain  deal  table  supported  an  oil  cook- 
stove,  with  an  air  of  decent  humility  and  shrink- 
ing from  observation.  The  open  door  beyond 
revealed  a  bed-chamber,  also  rag-rugged,  fur- 
nished with  a  noble  meagreness,  but  displaying 
a  four-posted  bed  of  carved  and  time-darkened 
ash.  Elsie  took  a  long,  full  look,  then  regarded 
her  husband  with  widening  eyes. 

" Anthony,  where  did  you  buy  them?  And 
what  did  you  pay  for  them!" 

No  one  within  his  memory  had  ever  called 
Adriance  by  his  unabbreviated  name.  It  came 
to  him  as  part  of  this  new  life  where  he  was  full- 
grown  man  and  master.  And  he  welcomed  the 
frank  comradeship  with  which  she  used  it,  with- 
out a  sentimental  affectation  of  shyness. 

"At  a  little  place  with  a  sign  'Antiques',"  he 
confessed.  "I  had  passed  it  in  the  car.  I 
thought  they  might  do  as  well  as  new  things, 
since  we  have  got  to  economize.  I  never  bought 
any  furniture  before;  if  they  won't  do " 

"They  are  perfect."  The  mirth  in  her  eyes 
deepened.  "But  you  had  better  let  me  help 


118  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

you,  next  time  we  shop  economically.  Hadn't 
we  better  build  a  fire,  first,  to  drive  away  the 
chill?  Oh,  and  is  there  anything  to  eat?" 

"In  the  cupboard  over  there;  everything  the 
grocer  could  think  of, ' '  he  said  meekly.  ' '  I  '11  go 
get  anything  else  you  say.  First,  though,  I'll 
run  down  to  the  gate  and  bring  in  our  suit- 
cases." 

"Do,"  she  approved.  "I  want  an  apron. 
Do  you  know,  you  never  asked  me  if  I  could 
cook." 

"Can  you?" 

"Wait  and  see.  "What  woman  thought  of  the 
oil-stove?" 

"The  antiquarian's  wife.  She  said  the  fire- 
place was  more  bother  than  it  was  use  and  sug- 
gested stuffing  it  with  paper  to  keep  the  draughts 
out." 

"Well,  we  will  stuff  it  with  fire,"  she  de- 
clared. 

They  built  the  fire;  or  rather,  Adriance  built 
it,  aided  by  the  girl's  tactful  advice.  When  the 
flames  were  roaring  and  leaping,  she  sent  him 
to  the  nearest  shop  where  lamps  could  be  pur- 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  119 

chased,  the  trifling  question  of  light  having  been 
overlooked. 

When  he  hurried  back  from  the  village,  the 
need  of  light  was  becoming  imminent.  Dusky 
twilight  came  early  here  under  the  edge  of  the 
hills.  Climbing  the  steep  road,  Anthony 
Adriance  looked  across  the  violet-tinted  river 
toward  the  chain  of  lights  marking  the  street 
where  Tony  Adriance  had  lived  and  idled.  Al- 
ready he  knew  himself  removed,  altered ;  he  was 
interested  in  keeping  on  with  this  thing.  Of 
course,  he  must  keep  on,  he  had  set  a  barrier 
blocking  retreat ;  he  had  taken  a  wife. 

He  opened  the  brown  door  of  the  shabby  little 
cottage,  and  stopped. 

The  fire  on  the  hearth  had  settled  to  a  warm, 
rosy  steadiness,  filling  the  room  with  its  glow 
and  starting  velvet  shadows  that  tapestried  the 
simple  place  with  an  airy  brocade  of  shifting 
patterns.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  the 
round  table,  robed  in  white  and  gay  with  the 
antique  shop's  ware  of  blue-and-white  Wedge- 
wood.  The  perfume  of  coffee  and  fragrance  of 
good  food  floated  on  the  warm  air.  The  fire 
snapped  at  intervals  as  if  from  jovial  excess 


120  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

of  spirits,  and  a  tea-kettle  was  bubbling  with 
the  furious  enthusiasm  of  all  true  tea-kettles. 
It  was  the  room  of  his  fancy,  the  unattainable 
home  that  Elsie  had  pictured  on  the  first  evening 
he  had  spoken  to  her  out  of  his  sick  heart. 

Elsie  herself  stood  beside  the  hearth.  Elsie  I 
He  never  had  seen  her  like  this.  But  then,  he 
scarcely  had  seen  her  at  all  except  in  the  severe 
black  of  a  nurse's  livery. 

She  had  merely  taken  off  her  jacket,  now, 
although  he  did  not  realize  the  fact.  Her  soft 
white  blouse  rolled  away  from  a  round,  full 
throat  pure  in  color  and  smoothness  as  cream. 
She  was  no  sylph-slim  beauty,  but  a  deep- 
bosomed,  young  girl-woman,  fashioned  with  that 
rich  fulness  of  curve  and  outline  that  artists 
once  loved,  but  which  Fashion  now  disapproves. 
Her  mouth,  too,  curved  in  generous,  womanly 
softness;  neither  a  thin  line  nor  a  round  rose- 
bud. Her  dark  hair  rippled  of  itself  around 
her  forehead  and  was  lustrous  in  the  firelight. 

His  entrance  caught  her  off  guard.  He  sur- 
prised herself  in  her  eyes,  before  she  masked 
feeling  in  gayety.  And  he  saw  a  wistful,  fright- 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  121 

ened  girl  whose  trembling  excitement  matched 
his  own. 

The  latching  of  the  door  behind  him  ended 
the  brief  instant  of  revelation.  At  once  she 
turned  to  him  the  cordial  comrade's  face  he 
knew. 

" Dinner  is  served,"  she  announced  merrily. 
"At  least,  it  is  waiting  in  the  oven.  We  have 
hot  biscuits,  scrambled  eggs,  a  fifty-eighth 
variety  of  baked  beans,  and  strawberry  jam. 
,There  is  no  meat,  because  you  only  shopped  at 
a  grocery,  sir.  Do  you  really  adore  canned  oys- 
ters, Anthony?" 

"I  never  tasted  one,"  he  slowly  replied, 
putting  down  the  packages  he  had  brought, 
without  taking  his  gaze  from  her. 

"Well,  you  bought  six  tins  of  them,"  she 
shrugged. 

He  made  no  pretense  of  replying,  this  time, 
moving  across  the  room  toward  her.  He  was 
remembering  that  she  was  a  bride,  who  by  her 
confession  loved  him,  and  that  he  had  given 
her  nothing  except  the  gold  ring  compelled  by 
custom ;  not  a  caress,  not  a  flower,  even,  to  speak 
of  tenderness  and  reassurance.  He  was  as- 


122  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

tounded  at  himself,  appalled  by  his  degree  of 
selfish  absorption.  All  day  she  had  given  him 
of  her  understanding,  her  warm  companionship, 
her  gracious  tact  and  heartening  cheerfulness, 
exacting  nothing — and  he  had  taken.  Oh,  yes, 
he  had  taken! 

Troubled  by  his  silence,  her  color  mounting 
in  a  vivid  sweep,  the  girl  tried  to  turn  aside 
from  his  approach. 

"We  must  have  a  little  cat,"  she  essayed 
diversion.  "I  hope  you  like  kittens?  Purrs 
should  go  with  crackling  logs.  Not  an  Angora 
or  a  Persian;  just  a  pussy." 

Her  voice  died  away.  Very  quietly  and 
firmly  Adriance  had  taken  her  into  his  arms. 

"I've  made  a  bad  beginning,"  he  made 
grave  avowal.  ' '  I  am  learning  how  much  I  need 
to  learn.  And  I  don 't  deserve  my  luck  in  having 
you  to  teach  me. ' ' 

She  rested  quietly  in  his  arms,  as  if  conced- 
ing his  right,  but  she  did  not  look  at  him.  She 
was  very  supple  and  soft  to  hold,  he  found. 
There  breathed  from  her  a  fresh,  faint  frag- 
rance like  the  clean  scent  of  just-gathered  daffo- 
dils, but  no  perfume  that  he  recognized.  She 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  123 

was  individual  even  in  little  things.  He  won- 
dered what  she  was  thinking.  The  uneven  rise 
and  fall  of  her  breast  timed  curiously  with  the 
pulse  of  his  heart,  as  she  leaned  there,  and  the 
fact  affected  him  unreasonably.  He  did  not 
want  her  to  move;  warmth  and  content  were 

flowing  into  him.  Content,  yet Suddenly, 

he  knew ;  a  man  confronted  with  a  blaze  of  light 
after  long  groping. 

"Elsie!'*  he  cried,  his  voice  sounding 
through  the  room  his  great  amazement.  1 1  Elsie  I 
Elsie!" 

She  looked  at  him  then,  putting  her  two 
little  hands  on  his  breast  and  forcing  herself 
back  against  his  arm  that  she  might  read  his 
face.  But  he  would  not  have  it  so,  compelling 
her  submission  to  the  marvel  that  had  mastered 
him.  "What  the  church  had  essayed  to  do  was 
done,  now.  Anthony  Adriance  had  taken  a  wife. 

"I  love  you,"  he  repeated,  inarticulate  still 
with  wonder,  his  lips  against  her  cheek.  "Why 
didn't  you  tell  me?  I  love  you." 

He  never  forgot  that  she  met  him  generously, 
with  no  mean  reminder  of  his  tardiness.  She 
took  his  surrender,  and  set  no  price  on  her  own. 


124  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Her  lips  were  fresh  as  a  cup  lifted  to  his  thirst 
for  good  and  simple  things ;  he  thought  her  kiss 
was  to  the  touch  what  her  eyes  were  to  the  gaze, 
and  tried  clumsily  to  tell  her  so. 

When  they  finally  remembered  the  delayed 
supper,  that  meal  was  in  need  of  repairs.  And 
because  now  Adriance  would  not  suffer  the  width 
of  the  room  between  himself  and  his  wife,  he 
insisted  in  aiding  her  in  the  process,  thereby 
delaying  matters  still  further.  Nine  o  'clock  had 
been  struck  by  the  clock  in  the  corner  when  they 
sat  down  to  table,  lighted  by  the  new  lamp.  It 
had  a  garnet  shade,  that  lamp,  upon  which  its 
purchaser  received  the  compliments  of  Mrs. 
Adriance. 

She  delivered  an  impromptu  lecture  on  the 
subject,  as  the  light  glowed  into  full  radianoe 
and  illumined  her,  seated  behind  it. 

"Red,  sir,  is  the  color  of  life.  It  was  the 
color  of  the  alchemist's  fabled  rose,  looked  for 
in  their  mystic  cauldrons,  because  if  the  ruddy 
image  formed  on  the  surface  of  the  brew,  the 
bubbling  liquid  was  indeed  the  true  elixir  of 
youth  and  immortality.  Bed  is  the  color  of 
dawn,  of  sunset,  of  a  fireside;  of  bright  blood, 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  125 

poured  splendidly  for  a  good  cause  or  daintily 
glimpsed  in  a  girl's  blush.  Bed  are  a  cardinal's 
robes,  a  Chinese  bride's  gown,  a  Spanish  bride's 
flowers.  To  be  kept  in  a  red-draped  chamber, 
in  Queen  Elizabeth's  time,  was  believed  to  cure 
beauty  of  the  smallpox  without  a  scar.  Lastly, 
red  is  the  color  of  the  heart. ' ' 

"  'Lord,  keep  our  heart 's-blood  red,'  "  para- 
phrased Adriance  soberly.  "I  am  not  clever 
like  you,  but  I  know  red  is  the  color  of  your 
own  jewels." 

"Mine?" 

He  caught  her  hands  acrossi  the  table. 

"Have  you  forgotten  what  stones  were  lik- 
ened to  the  value  of  a  good  woman?  Elsie, 
Elsie,  when  I  can,  I  will  give  you — not  diamonds 
or  pearls,  but  rubies.  Rubies,  for  to-night." 

Neither  of  the  two  was  given  to  continued 
sentimentality  of  speech.  But  the  deep  happi- 
ness, the  shining  wonder  that  still  dazzled  them 
found  expression  in  plans  for  this  new  future ; 
mere  suggestions  for  the  comfort  of  the  house 
or  the  pleasure  of  their  leisure  together.  She 
mentioned  a  much-discussed  book,  and  he  prom- 
ised to  read  it  aloud  to  her. 


126  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"IVe  always  wanted  to  read  aloud,  but  I 
never  found  anyone  who  would  listen,  > '  he  told 
her,  over  the  strawberry  jam  and  coffee.  "You 

can't  escape,  so 1  You  can  embroider,  and 

listen." 

"Embroider!"  She  heaped  scorn  on  the 
word.  "Let  me  inform  you,  sir,  that  there  will 
be  dish-towels  to  hem,  and  napkins.  Do  you 
know  we  have  only  one  tablecloth,  and  that  has 
a  frightful  border,  with  fringe?  Blue  fringe? 
And  there  are  no  curtains  at  the  windows.  Em- 
broider? I  shall  sew,  and  listen." 

"Well,  so  long  as  you  listen!"  He  lighted 
a  cigar  and  leaned  back  luxuriously.  "What 
little  hands  you  have!" 

She  spread  them  out  on  the  table  and  seri- 
ously contemplated  them. 

"Most  Southerners  have.  Didn't  you  ever 
notice  it,  even  with  the  men  ?  Down  in  Louisiana 
most  of  us  have  some  French  or  Spanish  blood. 
But  mine  have  not  been  do-nothing  hands,  and 
I  think  they  show  it  a  little  bit. " 

He  stopped  her,  with  a  sudden  distasteful 
memory  of  certain  wax-white,  wax-smooth  and 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  127 

useless  hands  that  almost  had  laid  hold  on  his 
life. 

"I  hope  that  mine  may  soon  show  something. 
To-morrow  I  will  try  to  become  a  wage-earner, 
and  start  a  pay  envelope  to  bring  you." 

"So  soon?" 

"Right  away.  Am  I  one  of  the  idle  rich? 
The  fact  is,  our  grocer  tells  me  chauffeurs  are 
badly  needed  at  a  certain  factory  near  the  foot 
of  the  hill.  I  think  I  should  rather  drive  a  motor 
truck  than  pilot  a  private  car,  open  doors  and 
touch  my  cap.** 

She  nodded  agreement. 

"Yes,  of  course.  What  factory  is  it, 
Anthony?" 

He  regarded  her  with  a  whimsical  humor. 

"Well,  to  be  exact,  it  is  not  a  factory  un- 
familiar to  us.  It  is  one  whose  sign  you  often 
have  viewed  from  the  aristocratic  side  of  the 
Hudson,  and  it  is  the  property  of  Mr.  Anthony 
Adriance,  senior." 

"Oh!"  startled.    "Is,  is  that— safe!" 

"Why  not?"  he  wondered.  "We  haven't 
broken  any  laws,  have  we  ?  The  worst  he  could 
do,  if  he  wanted  to  do  something  melodramatic, 


128  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

would  be  to  fire  me.  But  lie  will  not.  In  the 
first  place,  why  should  he?  In  the  second,  he 
knows  a  trifle  more  about  the  natives  of  Pata- 
gonia than  he  knows  about  the  men  who  drive 
his  trucks.  I  don't  believe  he  has  been  in  this 
factory  for  ten  years.  New  York  is  his  end. 
And  I'm  giving  him  a  square  deal ;  he  will  have 
a  very  valuable  chauffeur,  Mrs.  Adriance — one 
who  can  drive  a  racing-machine,  if  required!" 

She  disclosed  two  dimples  he  had  not  pre- 
viously observed.  But  her  eyes  hid  from  the 
challenge  of  his  and  she  rose  hastily  to  clear 
away  the  dishes. 

"Let  them  stand,"  he  commanded,  man- 
like. 

There  she  was  firm  in  rebellion,  however. 
Finally  they  compromised  on  his  assisting  her. 

"We  must  have  a  dog,  too,"  he  decided, 
when  all  was  neat  once  more.  He  glanced  about 
the  fire-bright  room  with  a  proprietary  air. 
' l  One  that  will  not  eat  your  kitten. ' ' 

"With  a  nice  watch-doggy  bark?" 

"With  anything  you  want!"  He  turned 
abruptly  and  drew  her  to  him.  "Elsie,  suppose 
I  had  missed  you?  What  a  poor  fool  I've  beenl 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  129 

Last  night Why  don't  you  take  it  out  of 

me  ?  Why  don 't  you  make  me  pay  as  I  deserve  I ' ' 

She  smiled  with  the  delicately-mocking  in- 
dulgence he  was  learning  to  know  and  anticipate ; 
it  sat  upon  her  youth  with  so  quaint  a  wisdom. 

"Perhaps  I  am,  or  will." 

"I  believe  now  that  I  loved  you  from  the  first 
day.  I  know  that  I  kept  thinking  about  you  and 
considering  everything  from  the  point  of  view  I 
fancied  you  would  take.  You" — with  sudden 
anxiety — "you  do  not  regret  coming  with  me, 
Elsie?  What  were  you  thinking  of,  just  now, 
when  your  eyes  darkened?  You  looked " 

"Of  Holly,"  she  answered  simply.  "I  hope 
his  new  nurse  will  play  with  him,  and  cuddle 
him." 

*  *  The  baby  f ' »  Her  fidelity  touched  him  with 
a  warm  sense  of  promise  for  his  own  future. 
"Yes,  I  have  taken  you  from  him.  But,  we  left 
him  his  father." 

The  allusion  brought  a  constraint.  The 
words  spoken,  Adriance  flushed  like  a  woman 
and  turned  his  ashamed  eyes  away  from  the  girl. 

"You  did  not  take  me  from  Holly,"  Elsie 
hurriedly    corrected.    "Mrs.    Masterson    dis- 
9 


130  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

charged  me,  night  before  last.  I  was  to  go  to- 
day, anyhow. " 

"You?    Why?" 

She  hesitated. 

"She  came  to  the  nursery  door  while  you 
were  speaking  to  me  of  telling  Holly  the  story 
of  Mait'  Eaoul  Galvez.  You  know,  Holly  is  too 
much  a  baby  to  hear  stories,  so  she  understood 
that  you  meant — other  things.  And  it  seems 
that  once  you  had  spoken  to  her  of  that  story. 
She — made  connections.  She  accused  me  of — 
of  flirting  with  her  guests;  of  being — an  im- 
proper person." 

"Elsie!" 

"It  is  all  over.  It  does  not  matter,  now. 
But  that  was  how  I  knew  she  did  not  send  you 
away.  Of  course  she  said  nothing  to  tell  me; 
she  is  too  clever.  But,  you  see  I  knew  so  much 
already;  and  when  I  saw  she  was  jealous  even 
of  your  speaking  to  me !" 

The  silence  continued  long.  Both  were  think- 
ing of  Lucille  Masterson.  As  if  she  feared  the 
man's  thoughts,  Elsie  shrank  away  from  her 
husband's  clasp,  the  movement  unnoticed  by 


THE  DARING  ADVENTURE  131 

him.  Her  clear  eyes  clouded  with,  doubt,  a 
creeping  chill  extinguished  their  glow. 

Adriance  spoke  first,  breaking  at  once  the 
pause  and  the  barrier. 

* '  Once  they  must  have  been  like  this — like  us. 
She  would  have  left  Fred,  left  him  down  and 
out,  for  a  new  man ;  and  she  his  wife  1 ' ' 

Disgust  was  in  his  voice,  wondering  con- 
tempt. He  pressed  his  own  wife  hard  against  his 
side.  But  Elsie  dragged  her  arms  from  the 
hold  that  bound  them,  and  impulsively  clasped 
them  about  his  neck  in  her  first  offered  caress. 

"  You  were  thinking  that?"  she  cried,  fiercely 
glad  in  her  triumph.  ' l  Anthony,  you  were  think- 
ing that?" 

He  stooped  his  head  to  meet  her  glance; 
standing  together,  they  looked  into  each  other's 
eyes. 


CHAPTEE  VHI 

ANDY  or  THE  MOTOK-TBUCKS. 

THE  man  behind  the  wicket  leaned  forward 
to  survey  the  man  outside.  The  gate-keeper 
at  the  main  entrance  to  Adriance's  was  the  prey 
of  a  double  vanity  that  kept  his  attention  alert : 
he  was  vain  of  his  own  position,  and  of  his  abil- 
ity to  judge  the  positions  of  other  men.  This 
was  his  seventeenth  year  in  the  cage  of  orna- 
mental iron-work,  and  he  had  brought  his  hobby 
into  it  with  his  first  day  there.  He  delighted 
in  difficult  subjects,  now,  who  baffled  a  casual 
inspection. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  an  air  of  bored  cer- 
tainty that  he  classified  this  morning  visitor  at 
a  glance,  and  settled  back  on  his  high  stool. 

" Office  door  to  the  right,  sir,"  he  directed, 
briefly,  but  respectfully.  "Boy  there  will  take 
in  your  card,  sir." 

"I  understand  chauffeurs  are  wanted  here," 
said  the  visitor,  his  composed  gaze  dwelling  on  a 
poster  to  that  effect  affixed  to  the  nearest  wall. 

182 


ANDY  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS        133 

The  gate-keeper  stared. 

"I  guess  so 1" 

"Is  the  office  the  place  where  I  should  apply; 
for  such  work?" 

"Trucking  department ;  turn  left,  down  base- 
ment, Mr.  Ransome,"  vouchsafed  the  chagrined 
concierge,  severely  wounded  in  his  self-esteem. 
So  blatant  a  mistake  had  not  offended  his  pride 
in  years.  He  turned  in  his  seat  and  craned  his 
thin  neck  to  watch  the  stranger  swing  blithely 
away  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"Chauffeur!"  he  muttered.  "Walks  as  if 
Adriance's  was  his  private  garage  an'  he  was 
buildin'  himself  a  better  one  around  the  corner! 
Hope  Ransome  throws  him  out!" 

But  Eansome  of  the  motor-trucks  was  in 
urgent  need  of  men  and  disposed  to  be  more  tol- 
erant. Moreover,  his  sensitive  vanity  had  taken 
no  hurt  that  morning.  But  he  looked  rather 
closely  at  the  applicant,  nevertheless. 

"Used  to  chauffing  private  cars,  aren 't  you ! ' ' 
he  shrewdly  questioned. 

1 1  Yes, ' '  admitted  Adriance. 

'  *  I  thought  so !   "Where  was  your  last  place  ? ' ' 


134  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"I  drove  for  Mr.  Adriance,  junior,"  was  the 
grave  response. 

The  man  whistled. 

1 1  You  did,  eh  ?    "Why  did  he  fire  you  ? ' ' 

"He  left  New  York  for  the  winter,  without 
taking  his  machines  along." 

"Did  he  give  you  a  reference?" 

"I  can  bring  one  to-morrow,  or  I  can  go  get 
it  now,  if  you  want  me  to  start  work  at  once. 
I  haven 't  it  with  me. ' ' 

"Why  not?" 

"I  forgot  it  would  be  needed." 

This  was  unusual,  and  produced  a  pause. 
Bansome  studied  his  man,  and  liked  what  he  saw. 

"Married?"  he  shot  the  next  routine  ques- 
tion. 

"Yes." 

"Anything  against  you  on  the  police  rec- 
ords? Accidents?  Overspeeding?" 

"Nothing." 

"I  can  see  you  don't  drink.  You  know 
Jersey?" 

"Not  so  well  as  New  York,  but  well  enough 
to  pick  up  the  rest  as  I  go  along. ' ' 

"Well,    it's    irregular,    but    we're    short- 


ANDY  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS         135 

handed.  Give  me  your  license  number  so  I  can 
verify  that.  Bring  your  reference  to-morrow, 

and  if  it  is  all  right I  '11  take  you  on  to-day, 

on  trial.  Wait ;  I  '11  give  you  your  card. ' ' 

The  inquisition  was  safely  past.  Adriance 
smiled  to  himself  as  he  watched  the  superin- 
tendent fill  out  the  card  that  grudgingly  per- 
mitted him  to  earn  his  first  wage.  He  was  in- 
toxicated, almost  bewildered  by  his  own  light- 
heartedness.  His  body  was  still  tired  and  beaten 
after  the  miserable  conflict  from  which  his  mind 
had  resiliency  leaped  erect  to  stand  rejoicing 
in  the  sunlight.  To-day  he  could  have  over- 
come a  hundred  ill  chances,  where  one  had  yoked 
him  yesterday. 

"Name?"  came  the  crisp  demand  from  the 
man  writing. 

"Anthony  Adriance. " 

"What!"  The  superintendent's  head  came 
tip  abruptly.  * '  Why — what  connection ?  * ' 

"Poor  relation,"  classified  Adriance  coolly. 
He  had  anticipated  this,  but  he  could  not  have 
endured  the  furtive  discomfort  and  risk  of  a 
false  name.  "All  rich  men  have  them,  I  sup- 
pose." 


136  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

His  indifference  was  excellently  done.  The 
superintendent  nodded  acquiescence. 

"I  suppose  so;  must  have  been  queer, 
though!  "What  did  young  Adriance  call  you? 
Did  he  know?" 

"Oh,  yes.  *Andy'  is  a  noncommittal  nick- 
name." 

"All  right;  here  is  your  card." 

Mr.  Bansome  watched  the  new  employee 
cross  the  floor,  with  a  meditative  consideration 
of  the  uselessness  of  the  shadow  of  the  purple 
without  its  comfortable  substance;  but  he  was 
not  especially  surprised  after  the  first  moment. 
Few  wealthy  men  trouble  themselves  about  the 
distant  branches  of  their  families,  and  babies 
are  frequently  named  after  them  by  hopeful 
kinsmen. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  subterranean  chamber 
where  trucks  rolled  in  and  out,  piloted  by 
weather-beaten  chauffeurs  and  loaded  with 
heavy  packages  and  bales  by  perspiring  porters, 
a  little  man  in  a  derby  hat  and  shirt  sleeves 
was  in  command.  With  him  the  matter  passed 
still  more  easily  for  the  stranger. 

"What's  your  name?"  he  shrilled  in  a  pecul- 


ANDY  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS         137 

iarly  flat  treble  voice,  across  the  uproar  of  thud- 
ding weight,  rolling  wheels  and  panting  machin- 
ery. "Andy?  Well,  take  out  number  thirty- 
five.  Mike,  Mike!  Where  is  that— that  Rus- 
sian? Here,  Mike,  you  are  to  go  with  number 
thirty-five.  Bring  your  truck  in  for  its  load 
and  get  your  directions  from  the  boss  there, 
Andy.  Report  when  you  get  back." 

A  huge  figure  lounged  across  the  electric- 
lighted  space  toward  Adriance;  a  pair  of  mild 
brown  eyes  gazed  down  at  him  from  under  a 
shock  of  red  hair. 

"I  guess  you're  new,"  pronounced  the  heavy 
accent  of  Russian  Mike;  "I  guess  I  show  you?" 

"I  wish  you  would,"  Adriance  cordially 
accepted  the  patronizing  kindness.  He  found 
time  to  marvel  at  the  readiness  of  his  own  smile 
since  last  night,  and  at  the  response  it  evoked 
from  these  strangers.  "I  don't  know  where  to 
find  thirty-five  yet,  or  who  is  the  boss. ' ' 

"I  know,"  announced  Mike,  grandly  com- 
prehensive; "you  ride  with  me,  Andy;  I'll  learn 
you." 

So  Andy  of  the  trucks  began  his  education. 

A  motor-truck  is  not  a  high-priced  pleasure 


138  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

car.  Nor  is  the  trucking  department  of  a  large 
factory  professional  in  its  courtesy.  Tony 
Adriance  learned  a  great  many  things  in  breath- 
less sequence.  And  he  never  had  been  quite  so 
much  interested  by  anything  in  his  life — except 
his  newly-made  wife.  The  men  were  not  gentle, 
but  they  were  merry.  They  shouted  gaily  back 
and  forth  at  each  other  with  a  humor  of  their 
own.  "When  Tony  stalled  his  unfamiliar  motor 
there  was  much  unpolished  witticism  at  his  ex- 
pense ;  but  also  a  neighbor  jumped  down  to  crank 
the  machine  for  him,  and  another  sprang  up 
to  the  seat  beside  the  new  man  and  gave  him  a 
score  of  valuable  hints  in  a  dozen  terse  sen- 
tences. When  he  finally  drove  up  the  incline 
into  the  street,  he  found  that  Eussian  Mike  ap- 
peared to  have  a  complete  map  of  the  Jersey 
City  river  front  engraved  on  his  otherwise  blank 
intelligence  and  proved  as  willingly  efficient  a 
guide  on  the  streets  as  in  the  factory.  If  the 
difficulties  were  more  numerous  than  the  novice 
had  anticipated  and  the  work  harder,  these 
things  were  more  than  offset  by  the  unexpected 
comradeship  he  encountered. 

All  day,  amid  the  steady  press  of  events,  the 


ANDY  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS       139 

thought  of  his  wife  lay  warm  at  the  core  of  his 
heart.  His  love  was  matched  only  by  his  deep 
wonder  at  the  thing  which  had  befallen  him. 
The  exultation  of  successful  escape  was  strong 
upon  him;  escape  from  loathsome  bonds,  from 
complicated  problems  his  innately  simple  mind 
detested,  above  all,  from  the  guidance  of  other 
people.  He  and  Elsie  were  alone  as  no  distance 
around  the  world  could  have  made  them.  He 
had  come  to  a  place  in  life  where  he  was  not  a 
boy  to  be  governed,  but  master  in  his  own  right. 
A  heat  of  pride  had  burned  his  face  when  he 
had  answered  "Yes"  to  the  superintendent's 
question:  "Married?"  Decidedly  he  meant  to 
stay  in  the  home  and  the  factory  of  his  first 
adventure,  if  possible. 

On  his  first  trip  he  made  an  excuse  to  stop 
at  a  stationer's,  where  he  wrote  for  himself  a 
recommendation  signed  by  Anthony  Adriance, 
Junior.  The  ruse  amused  him;  he  found  him- 
self childishly  ready  to  be  amused.  When  he 
brought  the  truck  in  from  the  last  journey  of 
the  day  he  presented  this  letter  to  Mr.  Eansome, 
who  read  and  returned  it  with  a  nod  of  content. 


140  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"All  right;  to-morrow  at  seven,"  lie  said 
briefly. 

He  ached  in  every  unaccustomed  muscle  bent 
to  toil  when  he  strode  up  the  hill  at  dusk,  his 
day's  work  over.  But  he  was  no  more  affected 
by  that  than  a  boy  on  his  first  day  of  camping — 
it  was  part  of  the  sport.  Because  he  was  learn- 
ing unselfishness  he  felt  more  anxiety  as  to  how 
Elsie  had  got  through  the  day.  Housework  in 
the  rather  primitive  cottage  was  a  different  thing 
from  caring  for  Holly  Masterson  in  his  luxuri- 
ous pink-and-gold  nursery.  "Would  he  find  her 
discouraged,  tired — perhaps  cross?  He  smiled 
audacious  confidence  in  his  ability  to  caress  her 
into  good  humor,  but  he  wondered  rather  un- 
easily whether  his  wages  would  support  a  maid 
should  Elsie  demand  one  as  necessary.  He  was 
utterly  unused  to  the  practical  apportionment  of 
money. 

There  were  new  curtains  draped  across  the 
lighted  windows  of  the  little  red  house.  As 
he  turned  up  the  ridiculous  plank  walk  he  saw 
a  very  diminutive  kitten  seated  on  the  window- 
sill  inside  washing  its  face.  And  then  he  heard 
a  fresh,  smooth  voice  singing  the  drollest  little 


ANDY  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS        141 

air  he  ever  had  heard  in  his  musical  experience 
— a  minor  grotesquerie  distinctive  as  the  flavor 
of  bouillabaisse  orleanais.  He  opened  the  door 
and  his  wife  laughed  at  him  across  the  bright 
room,  flushed  with  fire  heat,  dainty  in  her  laven- 
der frock  and  white  ruffled  apron,  arrested  with 
a  steaming  tureen  uplifted  in  her  little  hands. 

Perhaps  she  had  doubted  how  he  would  come 
home  from  that  first  day  of  work.  For  just  a 
moment  they  drank  full  reassurance  from  each 
other's  eyes;  then  Adriance  was  across  the 
room. 

"Put  it  down  or  I'll  spill  it!" 

"Sir,  this  is  a  soup  extraordinary!  Would 
you  overturn  your  supper?" 

"Yes,  for  this,"  said  Adriance,  and  kissed 
her  soft  mouth. 

"Anthony,  can  one  be  too  happy  and  affront 
the  fates?" 

"No." 

"We  can  go  on  and  on,  and  nothing  will 
happen?" 

' '  Please  God ! ' '  said  Tony  Adriance  with  per- 
fect reverence. 


142  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"It  is  not  a  wonderful  adventure  now;  it  is 
just  life?" 

"Of  course.  I  say — I  wish,  that  van-driver 
could  see  me  now — the  one  I  told  you  about  last 
night." 

* '  The  butcher  gave  me  the  kitten,  Anthony. ' ' 

* l  Of  course  he  did ;  any  man  would  give  you 
all  he  had.  What  were  you  singing  when  I 
came  in?" 

"How  should  I  know?  I  know  a  thousand 
bits  of  song  and  a  thousand  stories,  and  they 
march  in  and  out  of  my  head.  Our  dinner  is 
spoiling,  Mr.  Adriance." 

"Hove  you!" 

"I  dislike  you!"  she  mocked  him. 

There  was  no  one  in  New  York  who  would 
have  quite  recognized  either  Ajithony  or  Elsie 
Adriance  in  these  two  children  at  play  together. 

"Next  Saturday  evening  I  want  you  to  take 
me  shopping,  please,"  she  told  him  when  they 
were  seated  at  supper. 

"Enchanted;  but  why  Saturday?" 

"Because  you  will  have  your  wages  then, 
naturally.  "We  need  more  dishes,  and  a  casse- 


ANDY  OF  THE  MOTOR-TRUCKS       143 

role,  and  a  ribbon  for  the  kitten,  and — thousands 
of  things. ' ' 

"Shall  I  have  wealth  enough? " 

"Plenty;  we  are  going  to  the  5-10-20  cent 
store. '  ' 

"I  thought  those  were  the  prices  of  melo- 
drama on  the  East  Side." 

"Wait.  You  may  find  the  event  even  tragic, 
if  I  want  too  many  seductive  articles,"  she 
cautioned  him.  "But  let  us  not  talk  of  mere 
things — aren't  you  going  to  tell  me  about  your 
day?" 

"I  am.  But  it  was  a  day  like  any  other 
workingman's,  I  suppose;  nothing  happened." 

' '  Did  you  want  anything  to  happen !  I  imag- 
ined  " 

"All  I  want,"  said  Tony  Adriance  fervently, 
"is  to  be  left  alone,  with  you." 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOTTSB 

NOTHING  did  happen.  None  of  the  tradition- 
ary usual  experiences  overtook  the  two  in  the 
little  red  house,  as  November  ran  out  and  Decem- 
ber stormed  in  like  a  lusty  viking  from  northern 
seas,  attended  by  tremendous  winds  and  early 
snow. 

In  the  first  place,  the  marriage  of  Anthony 
Adriance,  Junior,  somehow  escaped  the  sensa- 
tional journals,  as  a  pleasing  theme.  There  were 
no  headlines  announcing :  '  *  Son  of  a  millionaire 
weds  a  nursemaid."  No  reporters  discovered 
the  house  on  the  Palisades,  to  photograph  its 
diminutive  Gothic  front  for  Sunday  specials. 
Adriance  had  written  a  letter  of  explanation,  so 
far  as  explanation  might  be,  to  his  father.  That 
was  on  the  morning  of  his  marriage,  and  as  he 
had  given  no  address,  naturally  he  had  received 
no  answer.  There  were  no  reproaches  and  no 
pursuit. 

Nor  was  Tony  Adriance  gnawed  by  vain  re- 

144 


THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOUSE  145 

grets.  According  to  every  rule  of  romance  and 
reason,  he  should  have  suffered  from  at  least 
brief  seasons  of  repining;  at  least  have  been 
twinged  by  memories  of  things  foregone,  yet 
desired.  But  he  felt  nothing  of  the  kind.  Mas- 
culine independence  was  aroused  in  him,  and 
held  reign  in  riotous  good  spirits.  With  a  boy's 
triumphant  bravado  he  faced  down  cold  and 
hard  work,  delighting  in  the  victory.  He  rose 
early  and  built  Elsie's  fires  before  permitting 
her  to  rise,  while  she  sat  up  protesting  in  the 
four-posted  bed  as  he  bullied  and  loved  and 
mastered  her.  He  walked  two  miles  to  and  from 
work  morning  and  evening,  and  drove  his  big 
motor-truck  eight  hours  a  day.  Moreover,  he 
gained  weight  on  the  regime,  and  the  springing 
step  of  a  man  in  training.  He  never  had  sus- 
pected it,  but  his  whole  body  had  craved  out- 
doors and  employment  of  its  forces ;  Nature  had 
built  him  for  work,  not  idleness.  The  atmos- 
phere in  which  he  had  been  reared  was,  by  a 
trick  of  temperament,  foreign  to  him. 

"I'm  plain  vulgarian,"  he  laughed  to  his 
wife  one  morning  as  he  started  to  work.    "I 
would  rather  drive  one  of  my  father's  trucks 
10 


146  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

and  come  home  to  your  pork-chops,  than  I  would 
to  dawdle  around  his  house  and  dine  with  a 
strong  man  standing  behind  my  chair  to  save 
me  the  fatigue  of  putting  sugar  in  my  own  coffee. 
Are  you  going  to  have  some  of  those  jolly  little 
apple-fritters  with  butter  and  cinnamon  on  them 
for  supper  to-night?" 

She  made  a  tantalizing  face  at  him.  It  was 
two  days  before  Christmas,  and  so  cold  that 
her  lips  and  cheeks  were  stung  poppy-bright  as 
she  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Of  course  not;  now  I  know  that  you  want 
them.  We  will  have  cold  meat.  What  are  you 
going  to  give  me  for  my  stocking,  Anthony?" 

"A  cold-meat  fork,"  he  countered  promptly. 
"How  did  you  know  I  meant  to  give  you  any- 
thing?" 

' ' I  didn't, ' '  she  calmly  told  him.  " But  I  am 
going  to  give  you  something,  so  I  thought  it 
only  kind  to  remind  you." 

He  swung  himself  easily  over  the  railing 
and  smothered  her  in  an  embrace  made  bear- 
like  by  his  shaggy  coat. 

"The  chauffeur's  peerless  bride  shall  not 
weep, ' '  he  soothed  her.  '  *  For  ten  days  her  ruby 


THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOUSE  147 

stomacher  has  been  ordered  by  her  devoted  hus- 
band. Now  let  your  Borneo  depart,  or  his  pay 
will  get  docked  next  Saturday." 

She  lingered  in  his  arms  an  instant,  her  shin- 
ing dark  hair  pressed  against  the  rough  dark- 
ness of  his  cheap  fur  coat. 

"Anthony,  don't  they  ever  notice  your 
name,  down  there?  Didn't  they  ever  ask  about 
it?" 

"Surely!  The  first  day  I  went  in,  the 
superintendent  asked  if  I  were  related  to  Mr. 
Adriance.  I  told  him  yes,  a  poor  relation.  True, 
isn't  it?  He  was  satisfied,  anyhow.  They  call 
me  Andy,  down  there." 

"Andy!"  she  essayed  experimentally. 
* '  Andy !  It  goes  pretty  well. ' ' 

They  laughed  together,  then  he  gently  pushed 
her  toward  the  door. 

"  Go  in, "  he  bade,  with  his  commanding  man- 
ner; the  manner  Elsie  had  taught  him.  "You 
will  take  a  royal  cold  out  here,  and  then  what 
should  I  do  for  my  meals?  I  have  to  eat  if  I 
am  to  labor ;  besides,  I  like  my  food.  "What  did 
you  call  those  cakes  we  had  this  morning?" 

"  'Belle  cola,  tout  chaud!'  "  she  intoned  the 


148  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

soft  street-cry  of  old  New  Orleans*  breakfast 
hours,  her  voice  catching  the  quaint,  enticing 
inflections  of  those  dark-skinned  vendors  who 
once  loitered  their  sunny  rounds  freighted  with 
fragrant  baskets,  "Some  day  I  will  show  you 
what  I  call  a  city,  sir;  if  you'll  take  me?" 

"I'll  take  you  anywhere,  but  I'll  not  let  you 
go  as  far  as  the  next  corner.  Now,  go  in-doors, 
and  good-bye." 

She  obeyed  him  so  far  as  to  draw  back  into 
the  warm  doorway.  There,  sheltered,  she  stayed 
to  watch  him  swinging  down  the  hill  through 
the  gray  winter  morning.  It  was  nearly  seven 
o'clock,  but  the  sun  had  not  yet  warmed  or  gilded 
the  atmosphere.  Bleakness  reigned,  except  in 
the  hearts  of  the  man  and  woman. 

They  had  been  married  two  months.  Elsie 
Adriance  slowly  closed  the  door  and  turned  to 
the  uncleared  breakfast  table.  But  presently  she 
left  the  dishes  she  had  begun  to  assemble,  and 
walked  to  one  of  the  rear  windows.  There  she 
leaned,  gazing  where  Anthony  never  gazed: 
toward  the  gray-and-white  stateliness  of  New 
York,  across  the  ice-dotted  river.  She  contem- 
plated the  city,  not  with  defiance  or  challenge, 


THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOUSE  149 

but  with  the  steady-eyed  gravity  of  one  measur- 
ing an  enemy. 

Two  months,  and  the  victory  was  still  with 
her !  Yet,  she  warned  herself,  surely  some  day 
New  York  would  call.  She  never  quite  could  for- 
get that.  She  herself  was  not  unlike  a  city  pre- 
paring for  defence,  feverishly  grasping  at  every 
stone  to  build  her  ramparts.  How  she  envied 
Lucille  Masterson  her  beauty,  the  elder  Adriance 
his  wealth,  since  those  possessions  might  have 
bound  Anthony  closer  to  her !  She  recalled  Mrs. 
Masterson 's  exquisite  costumes,  colored  like 
flowers  and  as  delightful  to  the  touch ;  the  costly 
perfumes  that  made  all  her  belongings  fra- 
grant; the  studied  coquetry  that  kept  her  like 
Cleopatra,  never  customary  or  stale.  To  oppose 
all  this,  Anthony's  wife  had  only — her  hearth. 
For  she  never  would  keep  her  husband  against 
his  will ;  Elsie  Adriance  never  would  claim  as  a 
right  what  she  had  held  as  a  gift. 

The  kitten,  a  black-and-white  midget  sug- 
gestive of  a  Coles-Phillips  drawing,  rubbed  in- 
sistently against  the  girl's  foot.  She  picked  up 
the  living  toy  and  nestled  its  furry  warmth  be- 
neath her  chin,  as  she  turned  in  quest  of  milk. 


150  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

She  thrust  forebodings  from  her  mind  with  reso- 
lute wilL  It  was  too  soon  to  think  of  these 
things ;  Anthony  loved  her,  Anthony  was  content. 
She  had  no  conception  of  how  fervently  glad 
Anthony  was  to  be  rid  of  harassing  thoughts 
and  complications,  or  how  gratefully  the  luxury 
of  peace  enfolded  him  and  dwarfed  the  mere 
physical  luxuries  of  idleness  and  lavish  expendi- 
ture. Nor,  being  a  woman,  did  she  sufficiently 
value  his  pride  in  the  possessions  he  had  bought 
with  his  own  labor.  Tony  Adriance  never  had 
noticed  the  table  service  in  his  father's  house; 
he  had  been  known  to  overturn  a  whole  tray  of 
translucent  coffee-cups  set  in  lace-fine  silver 
work,  without  a  second  glance  at  the  destruction. 
But  he  knew  every  one  of  the  cheap,  heavy  dishes 
he  and  Elsie  had  added  to  their  equipment  on 
Saturday  evening  shopping  orgies  at  a  five-and- 
ten-cent  store.  Knew,  and  admired  them !  When 
Elsie  would  call  from  her  "kitchen  corner;" 
"Bring  me  the  Niagara  platter, honey,"  he  could 
locate  that  ceramic  atrocity  at  a  glance.  And 
when  he  let  fall  the  Whistler  bread-plate — it  had 
a  nocturnal,  black-lined  landscape  effect  in  its 
centre — he  was  truly  grieved.  Indeed,  it  was  he 


THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOUSE  151 

who  selected  their  china,  Elsie's  taste  being  in- 
clined toward  a  simplicity  he  refused  as  monoto- 
nous. He  never  had  realized  the  pleasure  of 
purchasing  until  he  went  shopping  with  his  wife, 
chose  with  her,  overruled  her  or  indulged  her 
in  some  fancy,  then  drew  out  his  newly-received 
wage  and  paid,  magnificent. 

He  could  not  have  explained  his  emotions 
to  Elsie.  But  his  candid  delight  in  those  expe- 
ditions came  to  her  memory,  as  she  poured  the 
kitten's  milk  into  a  saucer  enamelled  with  blue 
forget-me-nots.  She  lifted  her  head  and  again 
glanced  toward  the  distant  city;  but  this  time 
she  smiled  with  certain  triumph.  He  was  her 
husband ;  better  still,  he  was  as  eagerly  her  play- 
mate as  any  lonely  boy  who  first  finds  a  chum. 
She  knew  Lucille  Masterson  did  not  possess  the 
art  of  comradeship  among  her  talents ;  it  was  an 
art  too  unselfish. 

"When  he  begins  to  tire  of  just  playing  this 
way,"  she  half -unconsciously  addressed  the  kit- 
ten, "we  will  find  something  else.  There  will 
always  be  something  for  us  to  think  of,  to- 
gether. It  will  come  when  it  is  needed.  Per- 
haps  "• 


152  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Arrested,  her  breath  failed  speech.  It  was 
as  if  her  own  words  had  thrown  open  a  door 
before  which  she  faltered,  her  eyes  sun-dazzled, 
yet  glimpsing  a  wide  horizon. 

Soothed  by  her  silent  neighborhood,  the  kit- 
ten finished  lapping  its  milk  and  went  to  sleep 
against  her  skirt.  But  the  girl  stood  still  for  a 
long  time,  steadying  her  heart,  which  seemed 
to  her  to  be  filling  like  a  cup  held  under  a  clear 
fountain. 

Later  in  the  day  a  boy  brought  wreaths  and 
sprays  of  holly  to  the  door.  Elsie  bought  reck- 
lessly, so  Adriance  came  home  that  night  to  a 
house  Yule-gay  with  scarlet  and  green,  spicy 
with  the  cinnamon  fragrance  of  the  apple-frit- 
ters, and  holding  a  mistress  who  showed  him  a 
Christmas  face  of  merry  content. 

"I  could  not  wait  two  days,"  she  explained 
to  him.  "We'll  begin  now  and  work  up  to  it 
gradually." 

But  after  all,  Christmas  morning  came  as  a 
surprise,  and  achieved  a  final  defeat  of  doubts 
and  forebodings  that  drove  them  out  of  sight  for 
many,  a  day.  For,  kissing  his  wife  awake  at 


THE  LUCK  IN  THE  HOUSE  153 

dawn,  Anthony  made  his  gift  first,  forestalling 
hers. 

"You  never  had  an  engagement  ring,"  he 
reminded  her.  * '  I  '11  have  to  make  a  tremendous 
record  as  a  husband  to  live  down  my  blunders 
as  a  fiance!  Here,  let  me  put  it  on  for  you. 
What  clever  dimples  you've  got  in  your  fingers ! 
I  noticed  them  our  first  night  here,  remember?" 

She  frankly  cried  in  her  great  surprise  and 
passionate  joy  in  his  thought  of  her.  It  really 
was  a  spectacular  ring,  and  glittered  bravely  in 
the  early  light;  an  oval  of  dark-red  stones  like 
a  shield  set  above  her  wedding  ring. 

"They're  only  garnets,"  he  stilled  her  pro- 
test of  extravagance.  ' '  But  they  are  the  color  of 
rubies ;  and  the  promise  of  them.  Don't — please 
don 't !  Come,  what  have  you  got  for  me  ?  Give 
it  up." 

The  diversion  succeeded.  Laughing  before 
her  eyes  were  dry,  she  answered : 

"He  is  in  the  wood-box.  I  had  to  keep  him 
in  the  house  where  it  was  warm,  and  I  was  so 
afraid  you  would  hear  him  and  spoil  the  sur- 
prise. But  he  was  as  good  as  possible ;  he  never 
said  one  word.  Open  the  lid,  dear." 


154  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

" He !"  echoed  her  husband.    "Him?" 

The  wood-box  yielded  him;  a  small,  jovial, 
bandy-legged  puppy. 

"He  is  almost  a  Boston  bull/'  Elsie  ex- 
plained conscientiously.  "If  he  had  been  quite 
one,  I  couldn't  have  afforded  to  buy  him.  But 
he  is  a  love.  Anthony,  he  is  the  watch-dog,  you 
know." 

Finding  both  faces  within  reach,  as  he  hung 
over  Anthony's  arm,  the  puppy  licked  them  with 
fond  impartiality. 


CHAPTER  X 
MBS.  MASTEBSON  TAKES  TEA 

IT  was  the  day  after  Christmas  that  Adriance 
was  sent  over  to  New  York  with  his  motor- 
truck, for  the  first  time  since  he  had  become  that 
massive  vehicle's  pilot.  His  destination  was  in 
Brooklyn,  so  that  he  had  the  entire  city  to  cross, 
and  lights  were  commencing  to  twinkle  here 
and  there  through  the  gray  of  the  short  winter 
afternoon  when  he  turned  homeward. 

The  experience  had  not  been  without  a  novel 
interest.  Holiday  traffic  crowded  the  streets; 
traffic  officers,  tired  and  chilled  by  a  biting  east 
wind,  were  not  patient.  Adriance  chose  Fifth 
Avenue  for  his  route  up-town  with  the  natural- 
ness of  long  custom,  without  reflecting  upon  the 
greater  freedom  of  travel  he  would  have  found 
on  one  of  the  dingy  streets  usually  followed  by 
such  vehicles  as  his.  However,  the  difficulties 
exhilarated  him.  Andy  of  the  truck  could  not 
but  wonder  how  the  policeman  who  roughly 
ordered  him  away  from  the  entrance  of  the  Park 

155 


156  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

might  have  phrased  that  request  if  he  had 
known  that  the  intruder  was  Tony  Adriance, 
"paper,  you  know!"  Perhaps,  because  of  this 
wonder,  his  cheerful  grin  drew  a  sour  smile 
from  the  officer. 

"Don't  you  know  you've  not  got  a  limousine 
there?  You  from  the  woods  1 ' '  came  the  not  ill- 
natured  sarcasm. 

"Worse  than  that:  from  Jersey,"  Adriance 
shot  back.  ' '  All  right ;  I  'm  sorry. '  * 

"Plain  streets  for  yours;  round  the  circle," 
was  the  direction,  which  also  implied  a  release. 

"Thanks,"  Adriance  called  acknowledg- 
ment, as  he  obeyed. 

The  bulky  figure  beside  the  chauffeur  stirred. 

"You  got  a  nerve,"  commented  the  man,  his 
slow,  heavy  voice  tinged  with  admiration.  "I 
seen  guys  pulled  fer  less,  Andy." 

Adriance  laughed.  He  and  his  big  assistant 
were  very  good  friends,  after  weeks  of  sharing 
the  truck's  seat.  The  chauffeur  appeared  a 
stripling  by  comparison  with  the  man  lounging 
beside  him,  huge  arms  folded  across  thick  chest. 
"Mike,"  as  he  was  known  to  his  fellow-workers, 
was  a  Eussian  peasant.  His  upbringing  in  a 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         157 

Hoboken  slum  had  fixed  his  patriotism  and  lan- 
guage, but  had  left  his  physique  that  of  his  in- 
heritance. His  reddish-yellow  head  was  set  on 
a  massive  neck  whose  base  his  open  shirt  showed 
to  be  covered  with  a  red  growth  of  hair  extend- 
ing down  over  his  chest.  His  large  features 
and  mild,  slow-moving  eyes,  his  heavy,  placid 
manner  of  speech  were  absurdly  alien  to  the 
colloquial  language  that  he  spoke.  Adriance 
knew  his  helper  had  been  an  employee  of  the  fac- 
tory for  ten  years,  but  he  did  not  know  that  Mike 
was  always  assigned  to  a  new  chauffeur  until 
the  stranger  proved  himself  trustworthy.  Mike 
was  dull,  but  he  was  stolidly  honest.  Valuable 
boxes  or  packages  were  not  reported  "lost" 
from  trucks  under  his  care.  Adriance  had  no 
idea  of  the  truth  that  "Kussian  Mike"  actually 
had  determined  the  permanence  of  his  position 
in  his  father's  great  mill. 

"If  I  cannot  go  through  the  Park,  I'll  go 
back  to  the  avenue,"  Adriance  declared,  when 
the  turning  had  been  negotiated.  "I  want  gay- 
ety,  Michael;  boulevard  gayety!  Four  o'clock 
on  Fifth  Avenue — shall  a  poor  workingman  be 
deprived  of  the  sight?  It  is  true  that  we  are 


158  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

too  far  uptown,  but  the  principle  is  the  same. 
You  agree  with  me?" 

I  'It  ain't  nothin'  to  me, ' '  averred  the  magnifi- 
cent guardian,  shifting  to  a  new  position  with 
an  indolent  movement  that  swelled  the  muscles 
under  his  flannel  shirt  until  the  fabric  strained. 
His  glance  at  his  companion  was  mildly  indul- 
gent. 

I 1  Of  course  not.  But  it  will  be,  next  time ;  that 
is,  if  you  do  not  die  of  pneumonia  after  taking 
this  drive  with  your  coat  wide  open.    Apprecia- 
tion will  grow  on  you.    What  do  you  think  of 
that  girl  in  gray,  in  the  limousine?    Pretty?    I 
used  to  go  to  school  with  her,  Michael ;  dancing 
school.'* 

The  Slavic  brown  eyes  became  humorous. 

1 '  Fact, ' '  Adriance  met  the  incredulity.  '  *  And 
now  she  doesn't  recognize  me;  and  neither  of  us 
cares." 

The  uplifted  hand  of  another  traffic  officer 
halted  the  long  lines  of  vehicles1.  Three  deep 
from  the  curb  on  either  side,  so  that  the  street 
was  solidly  filled,  automobiles,  carriages,  green 
and  yellow  busses  and  ornate  delivery-cars 
stopped  in  a  close,  orderly  mass.  Adriance  'a 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         159 

truck  was  next  to  the  sidewalk,  in  obedience  to 
the  rule  for  slow-moving  vehicles.  As  his  laugh- 
ing voice  answered  Mike,  his  tone  raised  to  carry 
across  the  roar  of  sound  about  them,  a  woman 
who  had  emerged  from  one  of  the  shops  stopped 
abruptly.  Her  glance  quested  along  the  rows, 
to  rest  upon  Adriance  with  eager  attention.  A 
moment  later,  the  man  started  at  the  sound  of 
his  own  name,  spoken  beside  him. 

"How  do  you  do,  Tony.  And  aren't  you — 
rather  out  of  place!" 

Momentarily  dumb,  he  looked  down  into  the 
large,  cool  eyes  of  Lucille  Masterson.  She  did 
not  smile,  but  faced  his  regard  with  a  composure 
that  made  his  embarrassment  a  fault.  Against 
the  white  fur  of  her  stole  was  fastened  a  knot 
of  pink-and-white  sweet  peas ;  beside  them  her 
face  showed  as  softly  tinted,  and  artificially 
posed,  as  the  flowers.  Beside  the  wheel  of  the 
huge  truck,  she  appeared  smaller  and  more 
fragile  than  Adriance  remembered  her.  With- 
out the  slightest  cause  he  felt  himself  a  culprit 
surprised  by  her.  He  had  all  the  sensations  of 
a  deserter  confronted  with  the  heartlessly  aban- 
doned. 


160  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Aren't  you  going  to  speak  to  me?"  she 
queried,  when  he  remained  voiceless.  "I  have 
missed  you,  Tony. '  '• 

He  hastily  aroused  himself. 

"Of  course!  I  mean — you  are  very  kind.  I 
— we  have  been  out  of  town." 

Feeling  the  utter  idiocy  into  which  he  was 
stumbling,  he  checked  himself.  The  current  of 
traffic  was  flowing  on  once  more,  leaving  his 
machine  stranded  against  the  curb;  made  fast, 
as  it  were,  by  the  white-gloved  hand  Mrs.  Mas- 
terson  had  laid  upon  the  wheel. 

"Without  heeding  his  incoherence,  she  looked 
at  a  tiny  watch  on  her  wrist,  half -hidden  by  her 
wide,  furred  sleeve.  With  her  movement  a  drift 
of  fragrance  was  set  afloat  on  the  thick,  city  air. 

"I  want  you  to  take  me  to  tea,"  she  an- 
nounced, with  her  accustomed  imperativeness. 
1 '  I  have  things  to  say  to  you.  Let  your  man  take 
your  car  home." 

In  spite  of  his  exasperation,  Adriance 
laughed.  He  was  aware  of  the  staring  admira- 
tion which  held  the  big  man  beside  him  intent 
upon  the  beautiful  woman;  he  had  heard  the 
greedy  intake  of  breath  with  which  the  other 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         161 

absorbed  the  perfume  shaken  from  her  dainti- 
ness, and  could  guess  the  effect  of  Essence  Eniv- 
rante  upon  untutored  nostrils.  But  for  all  that, 
he  could  not  imagine  Russian  Mike  obeying  the 
order  proposed. 

"You  see,  he  isn't  my  man,"  he  excused 
himself  from  compliance.  "Thank  you  very 
much,  but  it  is  not  possible." 

* '  Then  let  him  wait  for  you.  Really,  Tony, 
I  think  you  owe  me  a  little  courtesy." 

Adriance  flushed  before  the  rebuke.  He 
never  had  seen  Lucille  Masterson  since  that 
rough  farewell  of  their  final  quarrel.  He  had 
left  her,  to  marry  another  woman  inside  of  the 
next  thirty-six  hours.  He  always  had  been  at 
his  weakest  with  Mrs.  Masterson ;  he  slipped  now 
into  his  old  mistake  of  temporizing. 

1  i  I  am  not  dressed  for  a  tea-room, ' '  he  depre- 
cated. "Otherwise,  I  should  be  delighted." 

Her  eyes  glinted.  Grasping  the  slight  con- 
cession, she  leaned  toward  Adriance 's  assistant 
with  her  brilliant,  arrogant  smile. 

"You  will  watch  the  car  for  Mr.  Adriance, 
just  a  few  moments,  will  you  not  ?  "  she  appealed. 
11 


162  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"I  have  something  of  importance  to  say  to  him. 
I  should  be  much  obliged. ' ' 

The  white-gloved  hand  slipped  forward  and 
left  a  bank  note  in  the  hairy  fist.  Dazed,  Mike 
vaguely  jerked  his  cap  in  salute,  -still  staring  at 
the  woman.  Neither  money  nor  beauty  might 
have  lured  him  to  an  actual  breach  of  duty,  but 
this  was  the  last  trip  of  the  day  and  the  truck 
was  empty.  It  could  not  matter  if  the  return 
were  delayed  half  an  hour;  a  belated  ferryboat 
might  lose  so  much  time.  Moreover,  he  was 
not  only  willing,  but  anxious,  to  do  Andy  a  favor, 
and  the  bill  in  his  clutch  assured  a  glorious 
Saturday  night. 

"Sure,"  he  mumbled,  with  a  grin  of  shyness 
like  a  colossal  child's. 

"Come,  Tony,"  directed  Mm  Masterson. 

Because  he  saw  nothing  else  to  do,  Tony 
reluctantly  swung  himself  down  to  the  pave- 
ment beside  her. 

"I  can  only  stay  for  a  word,"  he  essayed 
revolt.  "It  is  hardly  worth  while  to  go  any- 
where. We  should  have  to  go  find  some  place 
where  these  clothes  would  pass  and  where  no 
one  knew  us." 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         163 

''On  the  contrary!  We  must  go  where  you 
are  so  well-known  that  your  dress  does  not  mat- 
ter," she  contradicted  him.  "The  Elizabeth 
Tea-room  is  just  here,  and  we  used  to  go  there 
often." 

He  could  think  of  no  objection  to  the  pro- 
posal. Presently  he  found  himself  following 
his  captor  into  the  pretty,  yellow-and-white  tea- 
room. 

As  the  Elizabeth  affected  an  English  atmos- 
phere and  had  not  adopted  the  the  dansant,  the 
place  was  not  overfull.  The  quaintly-gowned 
waitress  greeted  them  with  a  murmur  of  recog- 
nition and  led  the  way  to  a  table  without  a  glance 
at  the  chauffeur's  attire.  Mrs.  Masterson 
ordered  something;  an  order  which  Adriance 
seconded  without  having  heard  it.  He  was  re- 
covering his  poise,  and  marvelling  at  himself 
for  coming  here  no  less  than  at  Lucille  for  bring- 
ing him.  What  could  they  have  to  say  to  each 
other,  now?  The  scented  warmth  of  the  room 
brought  to  his  realization  the  cold  in  which  he 
had  left  Mike  to  wait,  and  he  was  nipped  by 
remorse. 

It  was  a  consequence  of  his  education  among 


164  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

people  who  never  considered  that  narrowness  of 
convention  which  they  designated  as  middle- 
class,  that  Adriance  had  no  sense  of  disloyalty 
either  to  Elsie  or  Fred  Masterson  in  being  here. 
On  the  contrary,  the  knowledge  of  his  marriage 
would  have  enabled  him  to  welcome  frankly 
either  of  the  two  had  they  chanced  to  enter  and 
find  him.  It  was  as  if  his  assured  position  chap- 
eroned the  situation.  But,  truly  masculine,  since 
he  no  longer  loved  Lucille  Masterson  he  detested 
being  with  her.  He  resented  the  acute  discom- 
fort he  felt  in  her  presence. 

She  was  drawing  off  her  gloves  with  a  slow- 
ness that  irritated  him  as  an  affectation;  he 
thought  the  artificial  perfection  of  her  hands 
hideous  as  a  waxwork.  They  were  not  really 
a  good  shape,  nor  small,  but  merely  blanched 
very  white  and  manicured  to  a  glistening  illu- 
sion. And  he  saw  with  disgust  that  she  wore  a 
ring  he  once  had  given  her  because  she  made  it 
plain  to  him  that  the  costly  gift  was  expected. 
He  knew  she  had  lied  to  her  husband  as  to  the 
giver;  "Tony"  had  been  startled  and  half- 
awakened  from  his  hazy  content  by  that  discov- 
ery at  the  time.  Now  he  looked  at  the  bulky 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         165 

pearl  set  around  with  diamonds  and  recalled  the 
modest  garnets  he  had  given  Elsie. 

"I  am  sorry,  but  I  haven't  long  to  stay," 
he  said.  '  *  You  spoke  of  something  important  to 
discuss. " 

"Did  I?" 

"Certainly!" 

She  studied  him  with  open  curiosity. 

* '  You  want  to  go  back  to  that  wagon  with  the 
gorilla  of  a  man?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  still  very  much  married,  Tony!" 
she  questioned  maliciously. 

His  eyes  blazed,  then  chilled.  Her  lack  of 
finesse  had  led  her  to  a  final  mistake. 

"You  forget  that  my  wife  is  an  unfashion- 
able woman.  I  am  still  happily  married,"  he 
retorted. 

' '  How — romantic  I ' ' 

"Very." 

"Still,  two  months,  or  is  it  three?  Even 
Fred  and  I  lasted  that  long.  You  will  not  mind 
my  saying  that  you  are  a  bit  fickle,  Tony.  What 
will  you  do  when  you  grow  bored?  Or  do  you 
believe  that  you  never  will?  Elsie  must  have 


166  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

resources  that  I  never  suspected.  Does  she  tell 
you  the  story  of — Monsieur  Baoul,  was  it?" 

"She  has  others  more  pleasant.  With  Mrs. 
Adriance  boredom  is  not  possible, ' '  he  controlled 
his  anger  to  state.  But  he  felt  himself  clumsy 
and  inadequate. 

The  quaint  little  waitress  was  beside  him, 
and  proceeded  to  her  duty  of  service  with  exas- 
perating slowness  and  precision.  She  was  a 
pretty  girl,  in  a  butter-cup-yellow  frock  and 
ruffled  white  cap  and  apron.  Adriance  became 
conscious  of  his  work-darkened  hands,  of  a  collar 
that  showed  a  day's  accumulated  dust,  and  other 
signs  that  differentiated  him  from  the  usual  idle 
and  dainty  patrons  of  this  place. 

"You  are  a  bit  seedy,"  corroborated  Mrs. 
Masterson,  watching  him  with  furtive  acuteness. 
She  permitted  herself  an  ironic  smile.  "Do 
you  not  think  it  time  yon  went  home,  and 
changed?" 

He  divined  an  inuendo,  a  double  entendre 
in  the  speech  that  he  did  not  comprehend,  yet 
which  enraged  him.  He  wondered  if  she  had 
brought  him  here  for  the  purpose  of  forcing 
this  contrast  between  his  present  life  and  his 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         167 

past,  and  so  tainting  him  with  discontent  or 
even  regret  of  his  marriage.  If  so,  she  had 
failed.  He  merely  visited  his  humiliation  on 
her,  and  found  her  beauty  spoiled  by  her  spite- 
fulness. 

'  *  I  shall  be  home  in  an  hour, ' '  he  said.  * '  And 
of  course  I  am  anxious  to  be  there,  so  you  will 
forgive  my  reminding  you  of  whatever  we  have 
to  discuss." 

"Oh,  of  course."  She  paused  until  their 
attendant  fluttered  away  through  a  swinging 
door.  "You  are  quite  cured  of  me,  aren't  you, 
Tony?  Don't  trouble  about  denying  politely, 
please.  But  it  is  lucky  no  one  really  knew  about 
us — I  suppose  you  have  not  told? " 

"Mrs.  Masterson!" 

She  hushed  the  protest,  laughing  across  the 
spray  of  sweet-peas  she  had  lifted  against  her 
smooth  red  lips. 

"Very  well,  very  well!  But  promise  you 
never  will.  Promise,  Tony. ' ' 

"It  is  not  necessary,"  he  replied  stiffly. 
"But  if  you  think  it  so,  I  give  you  my  word." 

"Never  to  tell  that  I  thought  of  marrying 
you,  whatever  may  happen?" 


168  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Yes." 

She  dropped  the  sweet-peas  and  sat  in  silence 
for  a  space,  her  gaze  dwelling  on  him.  Neither 
of  the  two  made  any  pretense  of  pouring  the  tea 
cooling  in  the  diminutive  pots  between  them,  or 
of  tasting  the  miniature  sandwiches  and  cakes. 
Months  later,  Adriance  was  to  learn  something 
of  Lucille  Masterson's  thoughts  during  that  in- 
terval. He  himself  thought  of  Eussian  Mike 
waiting  in  the  motor-truck,  and  that  he  would  be 
so  late  home  that  Elsie  might  be  worried.  He 
had  wanted  to  stop  at  a  shop  to  buy  a  toy 
bull-dog  collar  for  his  Christmas  puppy,  but 
now  that  must  be  postponed.  He  was  amazed 
and  infinitely  angry  at  himself  for  yielding 
so  easily  to  Lucille 's  whim  to  bring  him 
here. 

Unconsciously  he  looked  toward  her  with 
open  impatience  in  his  glance.  She  responded 
at  once,  with  a  shrug. 

"Go,  by  all  means.  Pray  go,  Tony.  Am  I 
keeping  you  ?  I  am  not  the  kind  of  woman  who 
mourns,  you  know.  Just  remember  that  our  epi- 
sode is  not  only  closed,  but  locked,  when  we  meet 
again.  Good-bye. ' ' 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         169 

"And  the  important  communication  that  I 
was  to  hear!" 

"I  have  forgotten  what  I  wanted  to  say. 
Good-bye,  Tony." 

Puzzled  and  angry,  he  rose,  leaving  on  the 
table  twice  the  amount  of  the  check,  at  which  he 
had  not  looked.  Mrs.  Masterson  nodded  an 
acknowledgment  of  his  grim  salute.  Her  eyes 
had  a  look  of  triumph,  and  as  the  girl  in  yellow 
ushered  him  out,  Adriance  saw  the  other  turn 
with  appetite  to  the  sandwiches  and  tea. 

The  east  wind  had  grown  stronger  and  its 
current  was  thick  with  whirling  particles  of 
snow.  Darkness  had  come  with  the  storm,  turn- 
ing dusk  into  night.  Adriance  shivered  and  but- 
toned his  cheap  fur  coat  as  he  hurried  across 
the  wet,  shining  pavement.  Mike  aroused  him- 
self with  a  grunt  when  the  chauffeur  swung  up 
into  the  seat  beside  him. 

*  *  Swell  dame,  Andy ! "  he  commented,  staring 
with  heavy  curiosity  at  the  man  pushing  throttle 
and  spark.  "I  guess  maybe  you're  a  swell,  too, 
like  a  movie  show  I  seen  once ! '  ' 

Adriance  stepped  down  again,  to  go  forward 
and  crank  the  motor.  He  began  to  glimpse  the 


170  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

possible  complications  if  Mike  recounted  this 
adventure  among  his  mates.  He  wondered,  also, 
if  Lucille  had  noticed  the  name  on  the  truck. 
Altogether,  he  was  in  a  vicious  enough  mood  to 
lie,  and  he  did  so. 

"No,'*  he  asserted  flatly,  when  he  had  re- 
gained his  seat.  "Don't  be  an  idiot,  Mike.  I — 
used  to  be  employed  by  that  lady. ' ' 

"Drive  her  automobile!" 

"Yes." 

The  explanation  was  accepted  as  satisfac- 
tory. An  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  eti- 
quette of  intercourse  between  mistress  and 
chauffeur  was  not  one  of  the  examiner's  accom- 
plishments. But  the  incident  appealed  to  Mike 
as  romantic,  and  for  him  romance  flowed  from 
one  source  only. 

"She  looks  like  one  of  them  actresses  from 
the  movies,"  he  averred,  folding  his  huge  arms 
comfortably  across  his  breast.  "I  guess  she  is, 
maybe?  I  seen  queens  like  her,  there." 

"It  is  a  good  way  to  see  them,  if  they  are 
like  her,"  observed  Adriance  ruefully.  He 
laughed  in  spite  of  vexation.  "Better  stick  to 
the  movie  girls,  Michael;  it's  safer!  Now  stop 


MRS.  MASTERSON  TAKES  TEA         171 

talking  to  me;  if  this  brute  of  a  truck  swerves 
an  inch  in  this  slush,  some  pretty  car  is  going  to 
feel  as  if  an  elephant  had  stepped  on  it. ' ' 

But  the  ill  luck  of  that  day  was  over.  They 
made  a  fast  trip  up-town  and  just  caught  a 
ferry-boat  on  the  point  of  leaving. 

After  all,  they  were  not  to  be  noticeably  late. 
And  since  there  would  be  no  need  of  explanation, 
it  occurred  to  Adriance  that  he  might  not  recount 
to  Elsie  the  tale  of  his  discomfiture.  He  was 
keenly  ashamed  of  the  poor  role  Lucille  Mas- 
terson  had  made  him  play.  She  had  whistled 
him  to  heel,  and  he  had  come  with  the  meekness 
of  the  well-trained.  She  had  amused  herself 
with  him  as  long  as  she  chose,  then  dismissed 
him,  humiliated  and  helpless.  He  did  not  want 
Elsie  to  picture  her  husband  in  that  situation, 
nor  to  find  him  still  unable  to  say  no  to  Mrs. 
Masterson. 

By  the  time  he  had  walked  up  the  long  hill 
through  a  beating  snow-storm,  he  was  thor- 
oughly chilled  and  self -disgusted,  desirous  only 
of  shelter  and  peace.  Both  met  him,  when  he 
pushed  open  the  door  of  his  house  and  stepped 
into  the  warm,  bright  room.  When  the  door 


172  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

closed  behind  him,  he  definitely  shut  outside  the 
image  of  Lucille  Masterson. 

With  a  little  rush  Elsie  came  to  meet  him, 
lifting  her  warm  and  rosy  face  for  his  kiss. 
The  puppy  scrambled  across  the  floor,  uttering 
staccato  yelps  of  salute. 

"I  Ve  named  our  house,"  the  girl  announced 
gleefully.  "You  know,  we  have  named  every- 
thing else.  Don't  you  like  Alaric  Cottage?" 

"I  like  the  inside  of  it  to-night,  all  right. 
But  why  Alaric?" 

"Because  it  is  so  early-Gothic,  of  course. 
You  must  appreciate  our  front  porch,  Anthony. 
Oh,  you  are  wet  and  cold!  Hurry  and  change 
your  things — I  have  them  all  laid  out — and  I  will 
feed  you,  sir. " 

So  the  matter  passed  for  that  time,  and  was 
forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  GLOWING  HEARTH 

CHEISTENED  NOEL,  in  honor  of  the  day  of  his 
arrival,  the  puppy  thrived  and  grew  toward 
young  doghood  in  a  household  atmosphere  of 
serene  content.  From  Christmas  to  Easter  the 
days  flowed  by  in  an  untroubled  current  of  time. 
Day  after  day,  Anthony  and  Elsie  Adriance  grew 
into  closer  and  fuller  companionship.  The  win- 
ter was  a  hard  and  long  one,  but  never  dull  to 
them. 

They  found  so  much  to  do.  In  return  for 
his  reading  to  her,  Elsie  sometimes  put  out  the 
lamp  and  in  the  flickering  firelight  told  him 
quaint,  grotesque  legends  of  Creole  and  negro 
lore.  Her  soft  accents  fell  naturally  into  patois ; 
she  was  a  born  mimic,  and  interspersed  frag- 
ments of  plaintive  songs,  old  as  the  tragedy  of 
slavery  or  the  romance  of  a  pre-Napoleonic 
France.  Her  voice  could  be  drowsy  as  sunshine 
on  a  still  lagoon,  or  instinct  with  life  as  the  ring 
of  a  marching  regiment 's  tread. 

173 


174  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

She  taught  him  to  play  chess,  too,  with  a 
wonderful  set  of  jade-and-ivory  men  produced 
from  among  her  few  belongings. 

"Do  you  know  these  must  be  mighty  valu- 
able?" Adriance  exclaimed,  the  first  time  he  saw 
them. 

"I  know  they  are  mighty  old,"  she  mocked 
his  seriousness.  "And  I  wouldn't  sell  them,  so 
the  rest  doesn't  matter." 

"  TeU  me  about  them. " 

* '  There  is  nothing  very  definite  to  tell. ' '  She 
regarded  him  askance  from  the  corner  of  a 
laughing  eye.  * '  Can  you  bear  the  shock  of  hear- 
ing that  one  of  your  wife's  ancestors  was  sus- 
pected of  having  secret  relations  with  the  noto- 
rious LaFitte?" 

"Who  was  he?" 

"LaFitte  was  a  pirate  and  freebooter,  sir, 
who  had  a  stronghold  below  New  Orleans,  where 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  widens  into  the 
Gulf.  Many  a  ship  paid  toll  to  him,  many 
curious  prizes  fell  into  his  greedy  hands;  and 
it  was  whispered  that  some  of  these  strange, 
foreign  things  mysteriously  appeared  in  the 
house  of  Martin  Galvez.  Negroes  were  heard 


THE  GLOWING  HEARTH  175 

to  tell,  with  breath  hushed  and  eyes  rolling,  of 
a  swift-sailing  sloop,  black  of  hull  and  rigged 
in  black  canvas,  lines,  and  all.  It  slipped  up 
the  river  at  midnight  and  down  again  before 
dawn,  past  all  defences,  they  said — and  its  point 
of  landing  was  Colonel  Galvez  's  wharf,  ten  miles 
above  the  city.  No  one  ever  knew  more  than  a 
rumor  that  ran  untraced  like  the  black  sloop. 
But  it  was  said  the  ivory-and-jade  chessmen  had 
travelled  by  that  craft,  as  had  great-great-grand- 
mother's  string  of  pink  pearls  which  are  painted 
around  her  neck  in  her  portrait.  Loud  and  often 
her  husband  laughed  at  the  tales,  inviting  all 
who  chose  to  watch  his  wharf  between  sunset 
and  sunrise,  any  night.  The  chessmen,  he  de- 
clared, were  presented  to  him  by  a  prince  of 
Cairo,  whose  enemies  had  betrayed  him  into  the 
hands  of  a  slave-trader.  The  Egyptian  noble's 
dark  skin  and  ignorance  of  Western  speech  had 
made  him  a  helpless  victim;  he  faced  the  final 
degradation  of  the  lash  when  Colonel  Galvez  saw 
and  rescued  him.  His  gratitude  sent  the  pretty 
playthings.  As  for  the  pink  pearls,  they  came 
from  Vienna,  by  lawful  purchase.  At  least,  so 
the  worthy  Colonel  was  fond  of  relating,  with  a 


176  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

convincing  detail,  over  his  incomparable  French 
wines  and  Havana  cigars." 

' '  But,  what  was  truth  ?  Which,  I  mean  t ' '  he 
questioned. 

She  shut  her  eyes  in  droll  disclaimer. 

"How  should  I  know?  The  pink  pearls  dis- 
appeared before  Josephine  Galvez  married  Fair- 
fax Murray,  sixty  years  ago.  The  chessmen 
are  dumb.  But  I  know  of  many  an  old  toy  from 
overseas,  around  our  house  still.  Nothing  of 
great  value!  We  are  as  poor  as  ecclesiastical 
mice ;  the  family  wealth  long  ago  fled  down  the 
wind  on  the  black  sails  of  ill-luck.  Yes,  the 
Hurrays  usually  held  poor  hands  at  cards.  Will 
you  move  first,  or  shall  I  f " 

"You,"  he  invited.  He  looked  at  her  with 
curiosity.  "Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  that 
you  were  a  princess  in  disguise?  I  never  knew 
you  had  an  ancestor  on  record,  and  here  you 
have  a  procession  of  them.  You're  a  funny 
girl." 

If  you  don't  like  me, 
Why  do  you,  why  do  you, 
Why  do  you  stay  around? 

She  sang  the  very  modern  verse  to  him  with 
a  mockery  altogether  tantalizing;  and  he  upset 


THE  GLOWING  HEARTH  177 

all  the  chessboard  in  answering  her  properly. 

Little  by  little  he  learned  a  great  deal  about 
her  home;  which,  he  discovered,  had  once  been 
the  veritable  home  of  the  punctilious  Mait '  Baoul 
Galvez  of  surprising  memory.  He  made  acquain- 
tance with  her  parents  and  her  sisters,  as  Elsie 
brought  before  him  a  living  simulacra  of  each 
one  with  her  magician-like  arts  of  description 
and  mimicry.  There  were  five  sisters,  it  ap- 
peared: Lee,  Eoberta,  Virginia,  Clotilda  and 
Nicolette. 

"Mother  named  the  first  three  of  us  and 
Daddy  the  last  three, ' '  she  explained.  * '  Wasn  't 
he  right  polite  to  wait  so  long?  Mother  is  a 
rebel  Confederate  up  to  this  minute,  while  Daddy 
altogether  indorses  the  North  and  is  a  profes- 
sional delver  in  romantic  history.'* 

' '  '  Elsie '  is  not  historical, ' '  he  objected,  much 
diverted. 

"Oh,  my  truly  name  is  Elcise;  I  come  before 
Clotilda  and  Nicolette.  But  my  grandfather  in- 
sisted upon  calling  me  Elsie  as  long  as  he  lived, 
so  in  deference  to  him  the  first  intention  was 
abandoned.  Poor  Daddy  lost  one  of  his  turns, 
after  all.  It  happened  very  well,  though !  Elsie 

12 


178  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

is  more  practical,  and  I  am  the  most  practical 
member  of  the  whole  family  circle." 

"Really?" 

"Why,  certainly i  Lee  married  a  dramatic 
poet,  who  is  also  the  editor  of  a  newspaper," 
she  retorted  upon  his  incredulity.  "And  one 
who  lets  his  two  vocations  interfere  with  one 
another  1  Roberta  has  been  engaged  to  an  army 
officer  these  five  years.  He  is  stationed  in  the 
Philippines,  where  she  is  to  join  him  and  live 
in  some  jungle  with  him  whenever  he  is  suffi- 
ciently promoted  to  marry.  Virginia  is  a  beauty, 
who  has  the  entire  college  full  of  young  men 
vibrating  around  our  house;  and  she  declares 
that  she  is  going  into  a  convent  when  she  is 
twenty-five.  Clotilda  and  Nicolette  are  twin 
babies  of  eleven  years.  They  still  have  plenty 
of  time  to  do  anything,  you  see.  We  were  all 
perfectly  happy  as  we  were,  but  it  became  really 
necessary  for  someone  to  relieve  Daddy,  if  only 
by  supporting  herself  and  leaving  more  for  the 
others.  So  I  began,  and  went  as  private  secre- 
tary and  companion  with  the  old  lady  of  whom 
I  have  told  you.  Wasn't  that  practical?  Of 
course,  Lee's  husband  supports  her,  usually. 


THE  GLOWING  HEARTH  179 

But  the  spring  that  I  came  away,  Daddy  had 
urged  him  to  resign  from  the  newspaper  and 
come  home  for  six  months  in  order  to  write  a 
poetic  drama  over  which  they  both  were  enthu- 
siastic. No  one  expects  it  to  make  much  money, 
but,  as  Daddy  said,  we  have  always  had  enough 
for  dignified  simplicity,  and  it  should  be  our 
duty  as  well  as  our  glory:  to  help  Lee's  husband 
to  fame." 

"Elsie's  husband  means  to  support  her  all 
the  time." 

"Oh,  I  told  you  Elsie  was  practical.  She 
married  sensibly." 

"Should  you  call  it  that?"  doubtingly. 

"Her  husband  is  quite  kind  to  her,  you 
know. ' ' 

"Well,  he  is  still  in  love.  When  that  wears 
off  as  she  grows  tired  of  feeding  him,  and  ill- 
tempered ? ' ' 

They  laughed  at  one  another  across  the 
hearth.  But  presently  Adriance  became  serious. 

"Elsie,  I  think  that  I  should  write  to  your 
father.  One  does  not  snatch  a  man's  daughter 
in  this  barefaced  fashion,  without  so  much  as  a 
word  to  him,  in  civilized  lands.  Why  haven't  I 


180  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

thought  of  that  before!  And  I  should  like  to  be 
welcomed  into  your  family,  or  at  least  tolerated 
there.  Bo  you  suppose  we  might  visit  them,  some 
day  when  our  nuances  permit  ?  Or  perhaps  some 
of  my  sisters-in-law  might  come  to  see  us? 
George,  what  a  time  we  could  have  given  those 
girls  with  some  of  the  money  that  I  had,  and 
haven't!  " 

His  wife  leaned  toward  him,  her  gray  eyes 
quite  wet  with  her  earnestness. 

"Anthony,  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  that 
would  make  me  so  happy  as  for  you  to  write 
home  and  tell  them  that  I  belong  to  you.  I  have 
so  hoped  you  would  think  of  it!" 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  to  do  so,  long  ago  1 ' ' 
he  asked  reproachfully. 

' '  Now,  how  could  I  tell  you  a  thing  like  that  ? ' ' 

"Why  not?"  he  wondered,  densely. 

She  made  an  expressive  gesture  with  her 
little  hands,  resigning  the  hopeless  task  of 
explanation. 

"Never  mind.  But  I  shall  be  so  glad !  You 
see,  they  do  not  know  that  I  am  married  at  alL 
I  have  not  dared  tell  them,  because  they  have 
such  stately,  quaint  ideas  that  they  would  be 


THE  GLOWING  HEARTH  181 

profoundly  offended  if  you  did  not  write  your- 
self. They  would  consider  it  a  great  slight  to 
me.  So  I  have  just  waited. " 

He  gazed  at  her  in  utter  marvel  at  such  pa- 
tience. 

''Never  do  it  again,"  he  requested.  "Please 
remember  that  you  have  deigned  to  wed  a  poor, 
dull  animal  who  needs  your  constant  guidance. 
Even  yet,  I  have  failed  to  grasp  the  delicate 
point  of  your  not  setting  me  to  work  at  this  weeks 
ago.  But  bring  the  writing  things  and  sit  be- 
side me  as  expert  critic;  we  win  attend  to  this 
before  we  sleep." 

They  did  so;  and  were  drawn  still  closer  to- 
gether by  the  fnlfiffmAnt  of  that  act  of  courtesy 
and  consideration  which  they  unwittingly  had 
neglected  so  long. 

The  warm,  gay  intimacy  of  their  life  together 
sank  deeper  into  the  fibre  of  both,  as  the  days 
went  by.  They  found  a  comradeship  of  minds 
as  well  as  hearts,  never  failing  in  novelty  and 
delight  to  the  man. 

"I  never  before  had  an  intimate  friend,"  he 
said,  one  morning',  with  a  wondering  realization 
of  the  fact  "I  knew  so  many  people  that  I 


182  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

never  guessed  it,  Elsie,  but  I've  been  lonely  all 
my  life.  I  can't  see  how  I  could  be  any  happier 
than  I  am  now." 

They  had  just  risen  from  the  breakfast-table. 

Across  it  Elsie  met  her  husband's  eyes;  her 
own  infinitely  wise,  splendidly  happy  as  his,  yet 
touched  with  that  delicate  raillery  which  ca- 
ressed and  laughed  at  Tiim. 

*  *  Oh,  yes ! ' '  she  dissented.    ' '  Yes,  Anthony. ' ' 

Puzzled,  he  searched  her  meaning  in  her 
shining  gaze. 

"I  could  be  happier?" 

"  Yes.    We  could  be." 

"But f" 

She  came  around  the  table  and  told  him  the 
answer,  putting  her  hands  into  his.  She  did  not 
speak  shyly,  but  proudly,  with  frank  courage 
and  comradeship. 

An  hour  later,  when  Adriance  went  down  the 
long  hill  to  his  day's*  work,  he  carried  himself 
with  a  dignity  new  as  the  blended  exaltation  and 
dread  that  paled  his  face.  Once  he  stopped  in 
the  snapping  March  wind  to  bare  his  head  and 
draw  a  full,  deep  breath,  looking  up  at  the  bright- 
blue  sky  where  tufts  of  white  cloud  sailed.  Al- 


THE  GLOWING  HEARTH  183 

though  the  season  was  so  far  advanced,  new-fal- 
len snow  overlay  road  and  hills,  so  that  Adriance 
seemed  to  himself  as  standing  between  two  sur- 
faces of  pure,  glinting  brightness.  His  thoughts 
were  only  now  becoming  articulate,  yet  a  sense  of 
final  change  had  settled  through  him.  His  man- 
hood had  come  to  full  dignity.  Now  he  knew 
what  he  had  done  when  he  snatched  Elsie  Mur- 
ray out  of  her  cross-current  of  life  and  took  her 
for  himself.  He  had  found  love  like  a  jewel  on 
the  road;  content  had  reared  a  shelter  for  his 
inexperience.  Now,  he  stood  as  protector  and 
shelter  as  long  as  he  should  live  for  the  weaker 
ones  who  were  his.  And  with  responsibility, 
ambition  sprang  fully  grown  to  life  and  chal- 
lenged him.  Was  his  wife  to  rank  as  a 
chauffeur's  wife,  and  nothing  more?  Was  their 
child  to  be  reared  in  that  place,  and  he  to  give 
the  two  nothing  better?  Anthony  Adriance 
passed  his  glance,  with  his  father's  cold  accuracy 
of  appraisal,  over  the  great  factory  lying  far 
down  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs,  where  he  himself 
was  awaited  to  drive  a  truck. 

Presently  he  went  on,  down  the  road.    But 
he  went  differently. 


CHAPTEE  XII 

THE  UPPER  TRAIL 

ADRIANCE  had  not  spent  half  a  year  in  the 
mill,  even  in  the  limited  capacity  of  chauffeur, 
without  observing  many  things.  He  had  come 
to  recognize  flaws  in  that  smooth-running  mech- 
anism of  which  he  was  a  part.  Might  he  not  find 
in  this  fact  an  opportunity?  He  saw  much  that 
he  himself,  given  authority,  might  do  to  pro- 
mote efficiency.  He  did  not  delude  himself  with 
the  idea  that  he  could  go  into  any  factory  as  an 
efficiency  expert;  he  did  see  that  here  he  might 
fairly  earn  and  ask  for  a  salary  that  would  give 
Elsie  more  luxuries  than  she  had  even  known  in 
her  own  home  and  more  than  he  himself  had 
learned  to  desire.  After  all,  there  had  been  no 
quarrel  between  his  father  and  himself.  When 
the  young  man  had  chosen  a  course  that  he  knew 
to  be  disagreeable  to  the  older,  he  simply  had 
withdrawn  from  their  life  together  as  a  matter 
of  courtesy  and  self-respect.  Since  he  no  longer 
gave  what  was  expected  of  Tony  Adriance,  he 

184 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  185 

could  not  take  Tony's  privileges;  now  however, 
knowledge  of  Elsie  had  changed  the  situation. 
His  father  had  only  to  meet  his  wife,  Anthony 
felt  assured,  for  his  marriage  to  explain  itself. 
Even  if  Mr.  Adriance  were  disappointed  by  the 
simplicity  of  his  son's  choice  and  ambitions, 
even  if  he  preferred  the  brilliant  Mrs.  Masterson 
to  the  serene  young  gentlewoman  as  a  daughter- 
in-law,  why  should  there  be  rancor  between  the 
two  men?  For  the  first  time  it  occurred  to 
Adriance  that  his  father  might  be  lonely  and  wel- 
come a  reconciliation.  They  never  had  been  inti- 
mate, but  they  had  been  companions,  or  at  least 
pleasant  acquaintances.  The  house  on  the  Drive 
had  not  contained  only  servants,  as  now  it  must 
— servants  who  were  merely  servants,  too,  not 
the  faithful,  devoted,  tactful  servitors  of  ro- 
mance, but  the  average  modern  hireling.  The 
house-keeper  engaged  and  dismissed  them  and 
was  herself  a  shadowy  automaton,  who  appeared 
only  to  receive  special  orders  and  render 
monthly  accounts.  For  any  atmosphere  of  home 
created  in  the  house,  the  Adriances  might  as 
well  have  been  established  in  a  hotel.  Anthony 
wondered  if  even  Elsie  could  leaven  that  dense 


186  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

mass  of  formality,  or  if  her  art  was  too  delicate, 
too  subtle  a  combination  of  heart  and  mind  and 
personality  to  affect  such  conditions.  He  could 
not  be  certain.  He  could  well  imagine  her,  daint- 
ily gowned  and  demurely  self-possessed,  as  mis- 
tress of  that  household ;  but  he  could  not  imagine 
the  household  itself  as  altered  very  much  or  made 
less  stupidly  ponderous  by  her  presence.  He 
had  not  thought  of  this  before,  but  now  he  could 
not  think  his  pleasure  would  be  quite  the  same 
if  they  sat  together  in  state  in  that  drawing-room 
he  knew  so  well,  while  she  told  him  the  tales  he 
had  learned  to  delight  in.  It  could  not  be  quite 
the  same  as  a  hearth  of  their  own,  and  his  pipe, 
burning  with  a  coarse,  outrageous  energy,  ex- 
pressed in  volumes  of  smoke,  while  Elsie  leaned 
forward,  little  hands  animated,  gray  eyes  spark- 
ling, and  mimicked  or  drolled  or  sang  as  the 
mood  swayed  them  or  the  tale  demanded.  He 
knew  that  he  himself  could  never  read  aloud  with 
enthusiasm  and  verve  if  Mr.  Adriance  listened 
with  amused  criticism.  No,  Anthony  realized 
with  some  astonishment  that  he  did  not  want  to 
take  his  wife  home. 

Nevertheless,  the  thing  must  be  done.   It  was 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  187 

a  duty.  He  could  not  selfishly  continue  in  the 
way  he  liked  so  well.  He  must  consider  Elsie 
and  the  third  who  was  to  join  their  circle.  He 
must  pick  up  for  them  what  he  had  thrown  aside 
for  himself. 

But  he  refused  to  go  back  to  his  father  like  a 
defeated  incompetent  to  plead  for  his  inheri- 
tance. His  pride  recoiled  from  the  certainty 
that  his  father  would  so  regard  his  return ;  there 
must  be  a  middle  course.  At  the  great  gate  to 
the  factory  yard  he  paused  to  survey  again  the 
enormous  buildings  with  their  teeming  life.  In 
more  than  one  sense  this  was  his  workshop. 

There  was  more  than  the  usual  hubbub  and 
confusion  in  the  shipping-room  when  he  went 
down  the  stone  incline  to  that  vast  subterranean 
apartment.  The  little  wizened  man  in  horn- 
rimmed spectacles,  who  vibrated  around  his  long 
platform,  checking  rolls  and  bales  and  boxes  as 
they  were  loaded  into  the  trucks,  had  already  the 
appearance  of  wearied  distraction.  His  thin  hair 
was  flattened  by  perspiration  across  his  knobby 
forehead,  although  it  was  not  yet  eight  o'clock 
and  freezing  draughts  of  air  swept  the  place  as 
the  doors  swung  unceasingly  open  and  shut. 


188  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Groups  of  grinning  chauffeurs  and  porters 
loitered  in  corners  or  behind  pillars,  eying 
with  enjoyment  or  indifference,  as  the  case 
might  be,  the  little  man's  bustling  energy  and 
anxiety. 

This  condition  had  already  lasted  two  days, 
like  a  veritable  festival  of  confusion.  Adriance 
had  watched  it  with  the  utter  indifference  of  his 
mates,  merely  attending  to  the  duties  assigned 
him  and  leaving  Mr.  Cook  to  solve  his  own  per- 
plexities j  but  this  morning  he  hesitated  beside 
the  fiery,  streaming  little  man.  The  little  man 
caught  sight  of  his  not  unsympathetic  face  and 
hailed  him,  calling  through  the  tumult  of  cars, 
rattling  hand-trucks,  pushed  by  blue-shirted 
porters,  and  the  complex  din  of  the  place. 

' '  Here,  Andy — you  know  New  York,  how  long 
should  I  allow  this  man  to  go  to  the  Valparaiso 
dock,  unload  and  get  back  T  Three  hours  ? ' ' 

1  'Two,"  responded  Adriance,  mounting  the 
long  platform  beside  his  chief. 

" Can't  be  done,"  the  chauffeur  of  the  wait- 
ing truck  sullenly  contradicted. 

"  Why  not?" 

"You  ain't  allowing  for  the  ferry  running 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  189 

across  here  only  every  half  hour,  nor  for  the 
traffic  over  on  the  other  side." 

The  tone  was  insolent,  and  Adriance  an- 
swered sharply,  unconsciously  speaking  as  Tonj 
rather  than  as  Andy: 

"You  don't  know  your  business  when  you 
propose  going  that  way.  Go  down  the  Jersey 
side  here  where  the  way  is  open,  and  take  the 
down-town  ferry,  that  runs  every  ten  minutes. 
And  come  back  by  the  same  route." 

"Who  are  you •"  the  chauffeur  began,  but 

was  curtly  checked  by  Mr.  Cook: 

"Do  as  you're  told,  Pedersen,  and  if  I  catch 
you  at  more  tricks  like  that  you're  fired.  You  Ve 
got  two  hours.  Next !  Herman,  get  your  truck 
loaded  and  take  the  same  route  and  time;  do 
you  hear?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but " 

"Get  out,  and  the  two  of  you  come  in  to- 
gether." 

"Excuse  me,  Mr.  Cook;"  said  Adriance,  Ms 
glance  taking  appraisal  of  the  second  truck; 
"Herman  has  a  cargo  of  heavy  stuff,  he  can 
hardly  get  it  unloaded  in  as  short  a  time  as 
Pedersen." 


190  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  little  man  turned  on  him  wrathfully. 

''Can't?  Can't?  They've  got  to  get  back  for 
second  trips." 

"Then  give  him  two  extra  helpers." 

Mr.  Cook  stared  at  him  through  his  specta- 
cles, then  turned  and  shouted  the  order.  When 
he  turned  back  he  dried  his  forehead  and  re- 
lieved himself  by  a  burst  of  confidence. 

"There's  a  lot  of  stuff  to  go  to  South  Amer- 
ica by  the  boat  sailing  at  three  o'clock.  A  rush 
order,  and  just  when  we  are  rushed  with  other 
deliveries ;  and  Eansome  is  home  sick.  /  never 
send  out  the  trucks;  I  don't  know  when  they 
should  come  in  or  how  they  should  go.  I've  got 
all  my  own  work  checking  over  every  shipment 
that  goes  out,  too.  It's  too  much,  it  can't  be 
done.  The  chauffeurs  are  playing  me,  I  know 
they  are.  Look  at  the  stuff  left  over  that  ought 
to  have  been  got  out  yesterday,  not  moved  yet ! 
They  tell  me  lies  about  the  motors  breaking 
down ;  I  know  they  are  lies ;  why  should  half  the 
trucks  in  the  place  break  down  just  when  Ban- 
some  is  away?  But  I  can't  prove  it." 

"Why  not  put  a  mechanic  in  a  light  machine 
to  go  out  to  any  truck  that  breaks  down,  and  then 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  191 

give  orders  that  any  man  whose  truck  stops  is 
to  'phone  in  here  at  once ! ' '  suggested  Adriance. 

This  time  Mr.  Cook  regarded  him  steadily 
for  a  full  minute.  Seizing  the  advantage  of  the 
other  man's  attention,  Adriance  struck  again: 

"Would  you  like  me  to  take  Mr.  Ransome's 
place  for  the  day?  I  know  both  cities  pretty 
well  and  I  know  your  men.  One  of  the  other  men 
can  take  out  my  truck;  Russian  Mike,  for  in- 
stance. ' ' 

"He  can't  drive." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  he  drives  very  well;  I 
taught  him  myself  this  winter." 

The  little  man  jerked  a  telephone  receiver 
from  the  wall  beside  him. 

"Mr.  Goodwin?  Cook,  sir.  IVe  got  a  man 
here  to  fill  Ransome's  place  for  the  present;  one 
of  our  chauffeurs,  sir.  Oh,  yes !  Andy — I  forget 
his  last  name.  He's  all  right,  yes.  I've  got  to 
have  help;  can't  handle  the  men,  Mr.  Goodwin. 
All  right;  thank  you,  sir." 

He  whirled  about  to  Andy.  In  the  brief 
moments  of  their  talk  the  congestion  had  thick- 
ened appallingly,  and  Mr.  Cook  looked  at  the 
disorder  aghast. 


192  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"G-o  over  to  Bansome's  box,"  he  snapped; 
"  you  're  appointed;  and  I  wish,  you  luck!  Fire 
them  if  they  kick,  and,  you  may  count  on  it,  I'll 
back  you  up." 

Bansome's  box  was  on  a  small  pier  run  out 
upon  the  main  floor,  in  such  a  situation  that 
every  vehicle  leaving  or  entering  must  pass  it 
and  report.  It  was  railed  around  and  contained 
a  desk,  a  telephone  and  a  chair.  Adriance 
slipped  off  his  overcoat  and  cap  as  he  walked 
out  on  the  little  elevation  and  took  his  place. 
The  men  lounging  about  the  rooms  straightened 
themselves  and  stared  up  at  this  new  arrival. 
A  little  improvement  in  calmness  came  over 
the  horde  at  the  mere  sight  of  a  figure  in  the 
post  of  authority. 

The  invalided  Eansome  was  missed  no  more. 
Opportunity  had  visited  Adriance  on  the  day 
when  he  was  inspired  to  seize  it  and  attuned 
to  accord  with  it.  He  and  his  fellow  chauffeurs 
had  been  very  good  friends,  but  only  as  their 
work  for  the  same  employer  brought  them  to- 
gether. None  of  them  had  been  so  intimate 
with  him  as  to  feel  his  present  position  a  slight 
upon  themselves.  Indeed,  they  were  a  good- 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  193 

natured,  hard-working  set,  whose  heckling  of 
Mr.  Cook  had  been  as  much  mischief  as  any 
desire  to  take  a  mean  advantage  of  the  present 
situation. 

There  was  an  authority  in  Adriance  himself 
of  which  he  was  quite  conscious,  a  personal  force 
that  grew  with  exercise.  He  stood  on  his  ele- 
vation, sending  out  man  after  man  with  clear, 
reasonable  orders,  noting  the  distance,  the  time 
of  departure  and  the  time  allowed  for  the  errand 
of  each.  He  acquainted  each  man  with  the  new 
rule  concerning  machines  broken  down  or  tem- 
porarily disabled,  wisely  giving  this  as  an  order 
of  Mr.  Cook's.  When  Eussian  Mike  came  by 
with  Andy's  truck,  the  big  man  smiled  up  at  the 
man  on  the  pier. 

"I  ain't  going  to  bust  her,"  he  assured 
him;  "I  guess  I'm  a  pretty  good  driver?" 

* '  Of  course  you  are, ' '  laughed  Adriance,  lean- 
ing down  to  give  him  his  slip  and  a  hand-clasp 
by  way  of  encouragement.  "  You  're  all  right, 
Michael;  take  care  of  yourself  and  remember 
what  I  told  you  about  going  slow." 

"Sure!"  A  smile  widened  the  broad  lips. 
"Say,  I  guess  it's  a  pretty  good  thing  we  wasn't 


194  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

being  checked  up  this  way;  when  we  met  that 
actor  lady,  yes  ? ' ' 

"Never  mind  her."  Adriance 's  color  rose 
a  trifle.  "I  am  not  holding  any  one  down  to 
too  close  time,  either ;  but  this  is  a  rush  morn- 
ing. Go  along  now. ' ' 

And  Michael  placidly  went. 

The  room  began  to  clear  before  the  efforts  of 
the  excitable,  nervous  Mr.  Cook  at  one  end  and 
the  quiet  management  of  the  young  man  at  the 
other  extremity  of  the  place.  This  was  far  more 
exacting  work  than  driving  one  of  those  motor- 
trucks he  dispatched  in  such  imperious  fashion, 
Adriance  soon  discovered.  For  he  did  not 
merely  hand  each  driver  a  slip  stating  his 
destination,  as  was  the  custom  of  Ransome. 
Under  that  system  Adriance  knew  from  his  own 
observation  that  hours  a  day  were  wasted  by 
the  men.  Only  if  a  chauffeur  outrageously  over- 
staid  the  reasonable  time  for  his  journey  did 
he  receive  a  sarcastic  rebuke,  which  was;  suffi- 
ciently answered  by  the  allegation  of  engine 
trouble.  The  new  method  was  received  with 
astonishment  and  some  scowls,  but  without  re- 
volt.  Instead  of  each  truck  sent  out  failing  to 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  195 

return  until  the  noon  hour,  two,  and  even  three 
trips  were  completed  during  the  morning.  There 
were  some  complaints,  of  course.  Adriance  cut 
them  off  in  their  incipience.  He  was  enjoying 
himself  in  spite  of  the  strain. 

In  the  middle  of  the  morning,  when  the 
trucks  first  sent  out  began  to  come  in  again, 
Cook  left  his  post  for  a  few  moments.  Adriance 
did  not  see  him  leave,  nor  did  he  note  that  two 
other  men  returned  with  his  temporary  colleague 
and  remained  standing  for  some  time  in  the 
shadow  of  the  pillared  arcade  around  the  wall, 
watching  the  proceedings  on  the  floor.  During 
a  lull  in  the  coming  and  going,  when  Adriance 
was  sorting  his  piles  of  slips,  one  of  these  men 
walked  out  to  his  raised  enclosure. 

"Good  morning,"  the  stranger  opened. 

* '  Good  morning, ' '  Adriance  absently  replied ; 
turning  his  head  and  perceiving  his  visitor  to 
be  a  frail  little  old  gentleman,  he  offered  him 
the  solitary  chair.  Of  course  he  knew  that  his 
visitor  must  be  connected  with  the  factory,  if 
only  from  the  air  of  tranquil  assurance  with 
which  he  settled  his  pince-nez  and  surveyed  the 
younger  man. 


196  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

'  *  How  do  you  keep  all  those  apart ! "  he  ques- 
tioned, motioning  toward  the  slips. 

"Put  them  in  order  on  a  file  as  the  men  go 
out,  then  turn  the  heap  over.  The  first  one  out 
should  bo  the  first  one  in, ' '  explained  Adriance, 
smiling.  "Of  course,  I  have  to  keep  together 
those  who  have  approximately  the  same  dis- 
tance to  cover.  It  is  a  very  rough  and  ready 
method,  I  know;  but  it  was  devised  under  the 
stress  of  the  moment.  A  row  of  boxes  with  a 
compartment  for  each  truck  numbered  to  corre- 
spond would  be  one  better  way  that  occurs  to 
me;  but,  of  course,  I  am  merely  a  temporary 
interloper." 

"My  name  is  Goodwin;  Mr.  Cook  did  not 
tell  me  yours 1" 

The  manager  of  the  factory  and  his  father's 
associate !  It  was  the  purest  chance  that  Tony 
and  he  never  had  met  at  the  Adriance  house. 
But  Mr.  Goodwin  belonged  to  an  older  genera- 
tion than  the  senior  Adriance,  his  home  was  in 
Englewood  and  he  rarely  came  to  New  York 
unless  upon  business — the  great  city  was  dis- 
tasteful to  him.  Something  of  this  Adriance 
recollected  after  his  first  dismay,  and  drew 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  197 

such,  reassurance  from  it  as  lie  might,  as  he 
answered : 

"My  name  is  Adriance,  Mr.  Goodwin. " 

"Adriance?" 

"Yes,  sir.  It  is  not  so  odd;  I  am  a  distant 
connection  of  the  New  York  family,  I  believe." 
He  had  a  cloudy  recollection  of  a  witty  French- 
man who  alluded  to  an  estranged  member  of 
his  family  as  his  "distant  brother." 

"I  see,  I  see;  after  all,  even  somewhat  un- 
usual names  are  constantly  repeated."  Mr. 
Goodwin  scrutinized  the  other  in  the  glare  of 
artificial  light  that  rather  confused  vision. 
"But,  excuse  me,  you  hardly  speak  like  a  chauf- 
feur. ' ' 

"Does  not  that  depend  on  the  chauffeur?" 
Adriance  parried  pleasantly.  "I  hope  not  to 
remain  one  all  my  life,  anyhow. ' ' 

"Ah — certainly.  Mr.  Cook  asked  me  to 
come  down  and  observe  the  improvement  in 
the  conditions,  here  this  morning.  I  am  pleased, 
much  pleased.  I  should  have  regulated  the 
system  in  this  department  before;  but  these 
modern  innovations  press  upon  me  rather  fast. 
I  looked  forward  to  retiring,  I  do  indeed,"  he 


198  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

coughed  impatiently  and  glanced  vaguely  over 
the  great  room.  "However,  that  is  not  the 
point.  I  should  like  you  to  keep  this  position, 
Adriance;  at  least  until  Mr.  Eansome  recovers. 
I  hear  he  is  threatened  with  pneumonia." 

"I  should  be  glad  to  do  so,  Mr.  Goodwin." 

"We  might  use  him  in  the  office  to  better 
advantage.  Well,  we  will  try  your  system  first. 
Write  an  order  for  any  filing  cabinets  or  ap- 
paratus you  deem  necessary.  Give  it  to  Mr. 
Cook  and  I  will  see  personally  that  all  is  sup- 
plied. This  is  a  critical  moment  on  which  may 
depend  a  considerable  trade  with  South  Amer- 
ica. Cook  tells  me  that  more  goods  have  been 
moved  this  morning  than  in  any  entire  day 
recently.  We  had  thought  of  buying  more 
trucks." 

"I  think  that  is  not  required,  sir;  I  wish  you 
would  try  my  way  for  a  week  before  doing  so, 
at  least.  It  is  only  a  question  of  using  to  the 
full  extent  the  materials  on  hand.  I  fancy  new 
troubles  grow  up  with  new  institutions,  and  an 
outsider  may  more  easily  see  the  remedy." 

"Yes?  Young  blood  in  the  business,  you 
think?  Perhaps,  perhaps." 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  199 

Two  trucks  roared  into  the  place  and  up  to 
Adriance's  post.  When  he  had  finished  with 
them  and  sent  them  on  to  Cook's  end  of  the 
room,  he  turned  back  to  Mr.  Goodwin;  but  that 
gentleman,  satisfied  as  to  the  improved  con- 
ditions, was  already  stepping  into  the  elevator 
to  return  to  his  own  offices  above. 

"Seventy-three,  the  old  top  is,"  remarked 
Cook,  running  over  to  pass  his  fellow-worker  a 
mass  of  memoranda.  "Keen  as  ever,  but  not 
up-to-date,  that  is  all.  Here — these  to  the  dock, 
these  to  the  Erie  yards;  this  straight  to  the 
decorator  on  Fifth  Avenue,  who  is  waiting  for 
it — it's  a  special  design  landscape-paper  for  a 
club  grill-room  on  Long  Island.  Eush  the  one 
to  the  steamer — Long  Island  and  Buffalo  can 
wait." 

"You  were  mighty  good  to  help  me  that 
way,"  said  Adriance.  He  took  the  slip,  regard- 
ing the  little  man  with  a  glance  in  which  many, 
thoughts  met.  He  smiled  at  one  of  these,  and 
his  face  became  warmly  kind  for  an  instant  and 
rather  startled  Cook. 

"You  helped  me  out  of  a  scrape  by  volun- 
teering this  morning,"  Cook  answered,  a  trifle 


200  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

abruptly.  "I  only  asked  him  to  come  see  how 
things  were  going.  You  are  to  keep  on  here  ? '  ' 

"Yes,  for  the  present. " 

"Glad  of  it!  Ever  do  this  kind  of  work 
before!" 

"Handling  trucks!" 

* '  No ;  handling  men. ' ' 

Adriance  considered. 

' '  Only  on  a  yacht,  I  think. ' ' 

A  group  of  four  trucks  came  in.  Outside  a 
whistle  began  to  blow;  others  joined  the  clamor 
and  a  gong  clanged  heavily  through  the  inter- 
mittent shudder  of  the  machinery-crowded 
building.  Twelve  o'clock!  Cook  hurried  away 
to  his  own  men,  who  had  fallen  idle  with  thei 
surprising  promptness  of  the  true  workmen; 
and  the  examination  was  ended.  Adriance 
foresaw  that  it  would  recommence,  but  he  was 
indifferent.  He  cared  very  little  how  soon  his 
father  discovered  him,  now  that  he  had  resolved 
to  seek  his  father  as  soon  as  he  saw  his  way  a 
little  more  clearly. 

He  was  profoundly  gratified  and  excited  by 
this  morning's  success.  It  gave  him  self-confi- 
dence, and  it  enabled  him  to  ask  a  share  in  the 


THE  UPPER  TRAIL  201 

factory's  management  with,  something  more 
tangible  to  offer  his  father  than  the  mere  asser- 
tion that  he  saw  improvements  to  be  made. 
He  actually  had  accomplished  something.  He 
would  save  many  thousands  of  dollars  by  util- 
izing the  machines  on  hand  instead  of  purchas- 
ing more  of  the  costly  motor-trucks,  with  their 
expenses  of  upkeep,  additional  chauffeurs,  and 
inevitable  deterioration  from  use. 

He  walked  out  into  the  cold,  fresh  air  to 
glimpse  the  sunshine  and  cool  his  hot  flush  of 
satisfaction.  He  thought  of  Elsie  with  a  pas- 
sion of  tenderness  and  triumph.  He  resolved 
that  he  would  not  tell  her  of  his  plans  until  they 
were  better  assured.  He  must  begin  to  shelter 
her  from  excitement  or  possible  disappoint- 
ment. No,  he  would  not  speak  of  the  recon- 
ciliation he  hoped  to  effect  with  his  father ;  not 
yet.  But  of  course  he  would  tell  her  of  his  new 
position  in  the  factory,  and  they  would  exult 
over  it  together.  Adriance  decided  he  would 
wait  until  their  dinner  was  over  and  cleared 
away,  then  he  would  draw  her  down  beside  him 
in  the  firelight  and  astonish  her. 

There  was  a  little  lunch  cart  across  the  way, 


202  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

much  frequented  by  chauffeurs,  car-conductors 
and  ferry-men.  He  went  there  for  his  lunch, 
as  he  usually  did  when  noon  found  him  near 
the  factory.  It  seemed  to  him  that  there  was 
already  a  little  difference  in  the  way  the  fellow- 
workers  whom  he  found  there  treated  him. 
Already  they  seemed  to  feel  that  he  was  moving 
away  from  them — had  taken  the  upper  trail, 
as  it  were.  Indeed,  he  felt  a  change  in  him- 
self not  to  be  denied.  It  was  not  arrogance, 
merely  the  assurance  of  a  man  who  sees  a  defi- 
nite path  before  him  and  follows  it  to  his  own 
end ;  he  had  ceased  to  live  from  day  to  day. 

But  he  was  quite  sure  that  he  would  never 
forget  this  day.  If  he  had  a  son  he  would  tell 
him  about  this  when  he  reached  manhood.  And 
he  would  be  his  son's  guide  to  this  satisfaction 
of  work  accomplished,  lest  he  miss  it  altogether, 
as  Tony  himself  so  nearly  had  done.  There 
were  to  be  no  worthless  Adriances. 


CHAPTER  XHI 

WHAT  TONY  BUILT 

BY  a  caprice  of  chance,  it  was  that  day  Mas- 
terson  came ;  almost  at  the  hour  when  Adriance, 
tired  and  exultant,  was  rearing  a  structure  of 
good  dreams  as  he  ate  his  cheap  food  at  the 
counter  of  the  lunch-cart  under  the  shadow  of 
the  huge  electric  sign  bearing  his  name. 

Morning  had  arrived  at  noon,  when  Elsie 
was  called  to  her  front  door  by  a  clang  of  the 
bell;  one  of  those  small  gongs  favored  years 
ago,  that  snap  with  a  pulled  handle.  Down  at 
the  end  of  the  straight  path  she  heard  laughter 
and  the  high-pitched  voices  of  women  above  the 
soft  roll  of  an  automobile's  motor.  Surprised, 
she  opened  the  door. 

Before  her,  on  the  high,  absurd  little  porch, 
a  man  in  motoring  furs  stood  and  steadied  him- 
self by  grasping  the  snow-powdered  railing. 
Confronted  by  a  woman,  he  lifted  his  cap,  and 
a  sunbeam  piercing  the  old  roof  gleamed  across 
his  close-clipped  auburn  curls. 


204  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"I  was  told  at  the  little  shop  that  a  chauffeur 
lived  here,"  he  explained,  pleasantly  enough. 
The  glare  of  the  sun  on  snow  dazzled  his  first 
vision.  "Our  compressed  air  system  is  out  of 
order,  and  my  man  forgot  to  put  in  a  hand- 
pump.  I " 

His  voice  trailed  away  into  silence.  He  had 
seen  her  face. 

"Elsie?"  he  doubted.    "Elsie 7" 

She  smiled  at  him  with  her  serene  com- 
posure, although  deep  color  swept  over  her  face 
with  the  startled  movement  of  her  blood. 

"Mrs.  Adriance,"  she  corrected.  "Will  you 
not  come  in?  I  am  sorry  Mr.  Adriance  is  not 
at  home." 

He  crossed  the  threshold  mechanically,  his 
gaze  not  leaving  her. 

"I  did  not  believe  it,"  he  exclaimed,  under 
his  breath.  "I  thought  Lucille — lied." 

"Mr.  Masterson!" 

He  shook  his  head  in  deprecation  of  offense, 
continuing  his  scrutiny  of  her.  He  had  the 
appearance  of  a  man  fevered  by  drink  or  ill- 
ness; his  eyes  were  bright  behind  a  surface 
glaze,  his  face  was  haggard,  yet  flushed.  His 


WHAT  TONY  BUILT  205 

features,  always  of  a  fineness  almost  suggest- 
ing effeminacy,  had  sharpened  to  an  extreme 
delicacy  that  promised  little  for  health  or  en- 
durance. 

"They  told  me  a  chauffeur  lived  here,"  he 
said,  presently. 

"Anthony  is  a  chauffeur,"  she  answered, 
compassion  for  the  change  in  "him  making  her 
voice  very  gentle.  "But  I  am  afraid  we  have 
no  automobile  tools  to  lend.  AH  such  things 
are  kept  at  the  factory  or  in  the  machine  he 
drives." 

He  swept  aside  the  subject  of  automobiles 
with  an  impatient  movement  of  his  hand,  and 
slowly  turned  to  look  over  the  room. 

It  had  gathered  much  of  comfort  during 
those  last  months,  that  room;  and  something 
more.  Scarlet-flowered  curtains  hung  at  the 
windows,  echoing  the  vivid  note  of  scarlet  salvia 
in  bloom  on  the  sills.  A  shelf  of  books  had  been 
put  up;  beneath,  a  small  table  held  the  jade- 
and-ivory  chessmen  drawn  up  in  battle  array 
on  their  field.  As  always,  the  fire  glowed,  and 
on  the  hearth  the  cat  stretched  drowsily.  Cheer 
dwelt  in  the  place,  the  atmosphere  of  comrade- 


206  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

ship  and  assured  love;  and  the  pulse  of  it  all 
was  the  girl  who  stood,  tranquil  of  regard,  rich 
in  life  and  beautiful  with  health,  princess  in  her 
own  domain. 

At  her  Masterson  looked  longest,  his  hand- 
some, bitter  mouth  oddly  twisted  out  of  shape. 

"You're  different,"  he  pronounced,  finally. 

"I  am  very  happy." 

"Happy?  Here?  You  married  a  million- 
aire's son  to  live  here?" 

"I  married  to  live  with  my  husband,"  she 
proudly  corrected  him. 

Again  he  looked  around,  and  suddenly 
laughed  out  with  an  over-loud  lack  of  control 
that  in  a  woman  would  have  been  called  hys- 
terical. 

"Tony  Adriance's  house!"  he  cried,  striking 
his  gloved  hands  together.  "Tony — idle  Tony, 
easy  Tony,  Tony  of  teas  and  tangos — Tony 

has  built  this !    Why ,"  he  bent  toward  her. 

' '  You  have  been  matching  work  with  God,  Elsie 
Adriance ;  you  have  made  a  man ! '  * 

She  drew  back,  aghast  at  the  bold  irrever- 
ence. He  laughed  again  at  her  expression. 

"You  think  I  meant  that  wrongly?    I  did 


WHAT  TONY  BUILT  207 

not.  I  know  well  enough  the  way  Tony  is  going, 
and  the  way  I  am.  That  is  if  he  sticks  to  this ! 
Are  you  never  afraid  he  will  not  ?  Never  afraid 
he  will  drift  back  to  the  easier  ways?" 

"No,"  she  affirmed.  A  shining  radiance 
lighted  her  confident  eyes.  She  carried  beneath 
her  heart  that  which  made  Anthony  and  her 
forever  one.  Fear  was  done  with ;  it  no  longer, 
wolf -like,  hunted  down  her  happiness. 

"No?  Do  you  think  he  will  be  content  to 
be  a  chauffeur  on  a  honeymoon  all  his  life! 
I'm  going  to  do  something  decent,  Elsie;  I'm 
going  to  help  you  clinch  Tony  Adriance.  No, 
don't  protest.  I'm  going  to  force  my  help  on 
you  both,  wanted  or  not.  Why,  you  can't  keep 
him  out  of  New  York  forever !  Send  him  there 
to-night,  to  me,  and  I'll  finish  what  you  have 
begun." 

Amazed  and  dismayed,  she  retreated  from 
his  urgency. 

"Excuse  me,"  she  began  a  stiff  refusal. 

He  cut  her  short  with  impatience. 

"Then  I'll  leave  a  message  for  him.  Don't 
look  like  that;  I  only  want  him  to  meet  me  in 
a  public  restaurant.  Can't  you  trust  me?" 


208  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"You  do  not  understand." 

"I  understand  more  than  you  do,"  he  re- 
torted bluntly.  "But  if  I  am  wrong,  no  harm 
will  be  done.  I  want  to  see  him,  anyhow.  Are 
you  afraid  of  me?" 

"No." 

"Well,  then ?" 

He  pulled  off  his  gloves  and  took  a  card  and 
fountain  pen  from  his  pocket.  Elsie  watched 
him  helplessly  as  he  wrote,  chilled  in  spite  of 
herself  by  a  return  of  the  old  dread.  What, 
was  she  not  able  to  hold  Anthony  certainly,  even 
now?  She  tried  to  look  around  her,  fortifying 
her  spirit  with  all  the  prosaic  evidences  of  their 
united  life.  After  all,  Masterson  knew  1 1  Tony' '  j 
he  knew  nothing  of  the  man  Anthony  was. 

She  was  able  to  meet  her  visitor's  glance 
with  her  usual  calm,  when  he  put  the  message 
he  had  written  into  her  hand. 

"Tell  him  to  come,"  he  pressed.  "Have 
you  forgotten  he  and  I  were  friends?  And  I'll 
always  be  grateful  to  you  for  loving  Holly.  Did 
you  know  I  had  lost  Holly?" 

She  paled,  the  baby  face  rising  before  her. 

"Lost  him!    Not ?" 


WHAT  TONY  BUILT  209 

"Dead?  No.  I'm  the  one  who  is  dead,  to 
borrow  a  bit  of  slang." 

His  laugh  was  bitter  as  quassia;  he  turned 
his  head  toward  the  sound  of  the  automobile 
horn  that  summoned  him. 

'  'A  dead  one ! "  he  repeated.  * ' I  have  to  go, 
Mrs.  Adriance.  But  send  Tony  over,  to-night." 

The  door  closed  on  the  last  word.  Elsie 
heard  the  high,  rather  strident  voices  of  the 
women  calling  salute  and  impatience ;  then  Mas- 
terson's  reply  set  in  a  key  of  strained  merri- 
ment. The  motor  roared  under  the  chauffeur's 
hand.  They  were  departing ;  evidently  a  means 
of  inflating  the  tire  had  been  found. 

The  peace  of  Elsie 's  day  had  departed  with 
them.  The  alteration  in  Masterson  frightened 
her;  the  strangeness  of  his  manner  and  of  his 
invitation  filled  her  with  anxiety.  Something 
was  wrong;  something  she  could  not  guess  or 
understand.  Why  should  he  have  spoken  so 
of  Holly?  Why,  too,  did  he  want  Anthony  this 
night? 

Was  Mrs.  Masterson  to  be  one  of  the  party 
at  the  restaurant?  That  idea  came  later.  The 
mere  possibility  of  such  an  event  fixed  Elsie's 


210  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

decision;  she  would  not  send  Anthony  to  the 
meeting  desired.  She  would  let  Master  son's 
accidental  visit  pass  unnoticed. 

But  when  evening  came,  and  with  it 
Adriance,  ruddy  with  the  March  wind,  boy- 
ishly hungry  and  gay;  when  he  took  his  wife 
in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  with  the  deep  ten- 
derness that  the  morning  had  added  to  their 
first  love,  Elsie  knew  better.  Better  any  mis- 
fortune than  the  barrier  of  deceit  between  them. 
And  she  remembered  in  time  that  it  was  not 
for  her  to  deprive  him  of  his  right  of  decision 
and  free-will. 

She  waited  until  supper  was  eaten  and  the 
blue-and-white  dishes  shining  in  their  rack 
again  beside  the  ten-cent-shop  china. 

"Shall  we  go  on  with  our  book!"  Adriance 
proposed,  when  his  pipe  was  lit.  Now  that  the 
moment  had  come,  it  pleased  him  to  dally  with 
the  surprise  he  held  for  her,  to  prolong  his 
secret  content.  He  stretched  luxuriously  in  his 
arm-chair.  "Lord,  it's  good  to  get  home! 
Funny  I  never  cared  much  about  books  until 
we  took  to  reading  aloud,  isn't  it?  Come  over 
and  settle  down.  I  think  we'll  turn  in  early 


WHAT  TONY  BUILT  211 

to-night,  if  you  don't  mind,  girl.  I  want  to  do 
some  extra  work,  to-morrow." 

She  came  to  him  rather  slowly. 

"Mr.  Masterson  was  here  to-day,"  she  said 
reluctantly.  "He  came  by  chance,  to  borrow 
something  for  his  automobile.  I  think  it  was  a 
tire-pump.  Of  course  he  was  surprised  to  find 
me.  And  he  left  this  for  you." 

Astonished,  he  took  the  card,  pulling  her 
down  beside  him;  and  they  read  the  message 
together.  It  was  very  brief,  yet  somehow  car- 
ried a  force  of  compulsion.  Masterson  urged 
his  friend  to  go  that  night  to  the  ball-room  of 
a  certain  restaurant  known  to  every  New 
Yorker,  and  there  wait  until  he,  Masterson, 
joined  him. 

There  was  a  pause  after  the  reading. 
Adriance  stared  at  the  card  with  the  knitted 
brow  of  perplexity,  while  Elsie  watched  his 
face  in  tense  suspense. 

"It  would  be  too  late,  now,  anyway,"  she 
murmured,  tentatively.  "It  is  eight  o'clock." 

Adriance  aroused  himself  and  laughed. 

"Oh,  innocence!  That  ball-room  does  not 
open  until  eleven,  fair  outlander.  But  you  had 


A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

better  get  ready,  for  we  have  a  quite  respectable 
distance  to  go.  Here  vanishes  our  quiet  even- 
ing!" 

"We?   You  would  take  me?" 

He  regarded  her  curiously. 

"Did  you  suppose  I  would  go  without  you? 
We  will  have  to  go,  because  Fred  means  this; 
I  know  him  well  enough  to  tell.  I'm  afraid  he 
is  in  some  kind  of  trouble." 

Elsie  shut  her  eyes  for  a  moment,  mastering 
her  passionate  relief.  She  opened  them  to  a 
new  thought. 

"Anthony,  I  haven 't  any  clothes,  for  such  a 
place." 

"Neither  have  I,"  he  calmly  dismissed  the 
matter.  "We  will  go  in  street  costume.  It 
doesn't  matter,  since  we  do  not  want  to  dance. 
By  the  way,  can  you  dance?" 

"Certainly." 

"The  new  dances?" 

"Some  of  them,"  a  dimple  disturbed  her 
smooth  cheek.  * '  Not  the  very  new  one. '  * 

"Well,  I'll  teach  you.  But  you  will  only 
dance  with  me,"  he  stated  with  finality. 


WHAT  TONY  BUILT  213 

Absurdly  happy  in  the  jealous  prohibition, 
she  went  to  make  ready. 

Elsie  Murray  had  possessed  one  dress  that 
Elsie  Adriance  never  had  worn.  It  was  a  year 
old,  one  brought  from  her  distant  home,  but  so 
simply  made  that  its  fashion  would  still  pass. 
It  was  an  afternoon,  not  evening  gown;  a  cling- 
ing, black  sheath  of  chiffon  and  net,  covering 
her  arms,  but  leaving  bare  the  creamy  pillar  of 
her  throat.  The  cloudy  darkness  echoed  the 
dark  softness  of  her  hair  and  threw  into  relief 
her  clear,  health-tinted  beauty  of  complexion. 
"When  she  wore  it  into  the  room  where  her  hus- 
band waited,  he  greeted  her  with  a  whistle  of 
surprise  and  pleasur 

' '  Some  lady ! "  he  approved.  '  'What  did  yon 
mean — no  clothes?  Have  I  seen  that  before?" 

"No.    Do  you  like  me  this  way?" 

He  put  his  hands  on  her  shoulders,  looking 
"down  into  her  eyes. 

"Of  course.  But  don't  you  know  it  doesn't 
matter  what  you  wear  or  have  ? "  he  asked.  ' '  We 
have  got  away  beyond  that,  you  and  I." 

They  walked  to  the  ferry ;  two  miles  through 
the  cold  darkness.  But  they  found  the  journey 


214  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

a  pleasure,  not  a  hardship.  Elsie  had  taught 
Anthony  her  art  of  extracting  amusement  from 
each  experience.  On  the  ferryboat,  they  had 
sole  possession  of  the  deck.  "  Mollycoddles, " 
Elsie  called  the  passengers  who  huddled  into 
the  cabins.  The  wind  painted  her  cheeks  and 
lips  scarlet,  as  she  leaned  over  the  rail  to  hear 
the  crunch  of  drift  ice  under  the  boat's  sides. 
The  two  evoked  quite  a  sense  of  arctic  voyage, 
between  them.  Anthony  gravely  insisted  he 
had  seen  a  polar  bear  on  one  tossing  floe.  They 
were  happy  enough  to  relish  nonsense ;  and  more 
excited  by  the  coming  meeting  and  place  of  meet- 
ing than  either  would  have  admitted. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  CABAKET  DANCEB 

IT  was  eleven  o  'clock  when  they  entered  the 
revolving  door  of  the  restaurant  appointed, 
and  faced  a  group  of  lounging  attendants  in 
the  lobby;  cynical-eyed  servitors,  all.  Tony 
Adriance  was  recognized  by  these  with  a  vivi- 
fying promptness ;  at  once  he  was  surrounded, 
addressed  by  name,  had  officious  service  pressed 
upon  him.  It  was  strange  to  the  girl  to  see  him 
so  familiar  in  this  place  where  she  never  had 
been ;  strange,  and  a  little  disquieting.  But  her 
grave  poise  was  undisturbed.  She  left  her  sim- 
ple hat  and  coat  with  a  maid,  aware  of  their  un- 
suitability  for  the  place  and  hour. 

They  did  not  enter  the  crowded  room  to  their 
right,  where  an  orchestra  was  overwhelming 
all  other  and  lesser  din  with  a  crashing  one-step. 
Instead,  Anthony  turned  up  a  shining  marble 
stair  with  a  plush-cushioned  balustrade  and  too 
much  gilding.  Elsie  viewed  herself  beside  him 
in  mirrors  set  in  the  wall  at  regular  intervals. 

215 


216  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  stairs  ended  at  an  arcaded  hall,  beyond 
which  lay  a  long,  brilliant  room,  comfortably 
filled  with  people  at  supper.  Filled,  that  is, 
according  to  its  arrangement :  the  entire  central 
space  of  gleaming,  ice-smooth  floor  was  empty, 
the  tables  were  ranged  around  the  four  walls. 
The  guests  here  wore  evening  dress,  for  the  most 
part,  so  that  the  room  glowed  with  color,  deli- 
cate, vivid  or  glaring,  as  the  taste  of  the  owner 
dictated.  Here  there  was  comparative  quiet; 
the  voices  and  laughter  were  lower  in  pitch  than 
down-stairs. 

"Is  Mr.  Masterson  here?"  Anthony  ques- 
tioned the  head  waiter,  who  hastened  to  meet 
the  arriving  couple. 

"Not  yet,  Mr.  Adriance,"  the  man  answered 
deferentially.  "At  twelve,  he  comes.  May  I 
show  you  a  table,  sir?" 

"Yes.  Not  too  near  the  music— Mrs. 
Adriance  and  I  want  to  hear  each  other  speak." 

"Certainly,  sir.  The  drum  will  be  loud,  sir; 
but  the  dancers  like  it." 

Elsie  caught  the  man's  side  glance  of  re- 
spectful curiosity  and  interest  directed  toward 
herself,  and  understood  why  Anthony  deliber- 


THE  CABARET  DANCER  217 

ately  had  fixed  her  identity  as  his  wife.  Pride 
warmed  her,  and  love  of  his  consideration  for 
her;  suddenly  she  was  able  to  enjoy  the  scene 
around  her.  She  felt  no  self -consciousness,  even 
when  the  elaborately  gowned  and  coifed  women 
glanced  over  her  appraisingly  as  she  passed  by 
their  tables.  She  looked  back  at  them,  serenely 
sure  of  herself.  She  was  not  at  all  aware  that 
many  of  the  men  stared  at  her  with  startled 
admiration  of  a  visitor  alien  to  this  atmosphere. 
Adriance  saw  well  enough,  however.  Elsie  had 
an  innocent  dignity  of  carriage  that,  joined  with 
her  gravely  candid  gaze,  was  not  a  little  im- 
posing. Moreover  her  pure,  bright  color  and 
clear  eyes  were  disconcertingly  natural  beside 
the  artificial  beauties.  Pride  of  possession  tin- 
gled agreeably  through  him ;  he  had  not  thought 
of  this  or  expected  the  emotion. 

When  the  two  were  seated  opposite  one  an- 
other, the  regard  they  exchanged  was  of  glow- 
ing content.  Adriance  ordered  supper  with  the 
interest  of  appetite  and  with  a  fine  knowledge 
of  her  tastes  and  his  own.  Then,  at  ease,  they 
smiled  at  each  other.  The  extravagance  of  the 
feast  was  of  no  moment.  The  utter  simplicity 


218  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

of  their  daily  life  made  Anthony's  salary  more 
than  sufficient;  they  already  possessed  the  re- 
source of  a  bank  account. 

So  far,  there  had  been  no  music,  except  faint 
echoes  from  the  room  below.  Now  a  tinkle  of 
strings  sounded  delicately,  swelling  from  a  sin- 
gle note  into  a  full,  minor  waltz  melody.  Turn- 
ing, Elsie  saw  the  musicians.  They  were 
negroes ;  not  a  band  or  an  orchestra,  merely  a 
pianist,  two  men  with  mandolins  and  as  many 
with  banjoes,  and  one  who  handled  with  amazing 
dexterity  a  whole  set  of  sound  producers;  a 
drum,  cymbals,  bells,  a  gong,  even  an  automo- 
bile horn.  From  one  to  another  instrument,  as 
the  character  of  the  piece  demanded,  this  per- 
former 's  hands  and  feet  flew  with  accuracy  and 
ludicrous  speed.  But  the  music  was  more  than 
good,  it  was  unique,  inspired ;  it  snared  the  feet 
and  the  senses.  All  round  sounded  the  scraping 
of  chairs  pushed  back,  as  men  and  women  rose 
to  answer  the  call.  In  one  short  moment 
the  place  changed  from  a  restaurant  to  a 
ball-room. 

It  was  such  a  ball-room  as  Elsie  Adriance 
never  had  glimpsed  in  either  her  Louisiana  or 


THE  CABARET  DANCER  219 

restricted  New  York  experiences.  The  women 
were  costumed  in  the  extreme  fashions  of  a  year 
when  all  fashion  was  extreme.  As  the  dancers 
swayed  past  in  the  graceful,  hesitating  steps  of 
the  last  new  waltz,  there  were  revelations ; — of 
low-cut  draperies,  of  skirts  transparent  to  the 
knees,  with  ribbon-laced  slippers  jewelled  at 
heel  and  buckle  glancing  through  the  thin  veil 
of  tinted  chiffon  or  lace.  The  scene  had  an 
Oriental  frankness  without  being  blatant  or 
coarse.  At  the  tables  there  was  much  drinking 
of  wine  and  liqueurs,  but  as  yet  no  apparent  in- 
toxication. Some  of  the  women  who  were  not 
dancing  smoked  cigarettes  as  they  chatted  with 
their  companions ;  not  a  few  of  these  had  white 
hair  and  were  obviously  matrons,  respected  and 
self-respecting. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it!"  Adriance  in- 
quired, after  watching  his  wife  with  mischief  in 
his  eyes. 

' 1 1  don 't  know, ' '  she  slowly  confessed.  "You 
know,  I  am  an  outlander.  But  I  am  not  so 
stupid  as  to  misunderstand  too  badly.  These 
people  are — all  right?" 

"Yes;  most  of  them.     This  is  the  after- 


220  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

theatre  crowd.  Some  are  from  the  stage,  some 
from  the  audience.  That  lady  in  green  chiffon 
who  looks  as  if  she  had  forgotten  to  put  on  most 
of  her  clothes  is  the  wife  of  one  of  my  father's 
business  associates.  Did  you  see  her  husband 
bow  to  us  as  we  came  in?  The  little  black-eyed 
girl  in  the  black  velvet  walking-suit,  at  the  next 
table,  is  La  Tanagra,  who  does  classic  dances 
in  a  yard  of  pink  veil.  She  is  a  very  nice  girl, 

too.      Of    course,    some    of    them "    He 

shrugged. 

The  music  stopped.  Through  a  press  of 
laughing,  flushed  people  returning  to  their 
tables,  a  waiter  wound  a  difficult  passage  with 
the  first  course  of  the  supper  Adriance  had 
ordered. 

Guests  entered  the  room  in  a  thin,  constant 
stream,  as  the  hour  advanced.  But  there  was 
no  sign  of  Masterson.  Elsie  wondered  what 
he  would  say  on  finding  her  with  Anthony. 
Would  he  be  angry,  indifferent,  disconcerted? 
Perhaps  he  would  not  come  alone. 

A  sharp,  imperious  clang  of  cymbals  rang 
out  abruptly,  hushing  the  murmur  of  voices  and 
laughter.  Elsie  started  from  her  abstraction, 


THE  CABARET  DANCER  221 

and  saw  all  eyes  turned  toward  the  centre  of 
the  room. 

"Demonstration  dance,"  smiled  Adriance. 
"Now  you'll  see  something!" 

A  short,  dark  man  and  a  woman  in  yellow 
gauze  through  which  showed  her  bare,  dimpled 
knees,  stood  alone  on  the  floor.  At  a  second 
clang  of  cymbals  they  floated  with  the  music 
into  a  strange,  half-Spanish,  half -savage  dance ; 
a  dance  vigorously,  even  crudely  alive  and  swift 
as  a  flight.  The  woman  was  not  beautiful,  but 
she  was  incredibly  graceful.  Her  small,  arched, 
flashing  feet  in  their  gilded  slippers  recalled  a 
half -forgotten  line  to  Elsie. 

"  'And  her  sandals  delighted  his  eyes '  " 

she  quoted  aloud.  "Do  you  remember  that, 
Anthony?" 

But  Adriance  was  laughing  at  her. 

"Infant!"  he  mocked.  "Wait  until  youVe 
seen  it  as  often  as  I  have,  and  then  you  will  not 
let  your  supper  grow  cold.  There,  it's  over!" 

It  was.  The  dance'  ended  with  the  dancers  in 
each  other's  arms,  glances  knit,  lips  almost 
touching.  The  applause  was  courteous.  The 
audience,  like  Adriance,  was  too  sophisticated 


222  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

to  be  readily  excited.  It  really  preferred  to  do 
its  own  dancing. 

The  preference  was  gratified  during  the  next 
half  hour.  One-step,  fox-trot  and  a  Lulu  Fado 
followed  in  smooth  succession.  The  room  was 
very  full,  now.  One  or  two  parties  began  to  show 
too  much  exhilaration. 

"I  wish  Fred  would  come,"  Adriance  re- 
marked, with  a  restive  glance  at  the  noisiest 
group.  * '  I  don 't  want  you  to  be  here  much  after 
midnight.  I  wonder " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  second  crash  of 
brazen  cymbals  that  struck  down  the  chatter 
and  movement  of  the  crowd.  With  the  harsh, 
resonant  clang,  and  continuing  after  it  had 
ceased,  came  the  soft  chime  of  a  clock  striking 
twelve. 

This  time  a  more  decided  interest  greeted 
the  announcement.  In  fact,  a  distinct  thrill  ran 
through  the  room.  Men  and  women  abandoned 
forks  and  glasses,  turning  eagerly  toward  the 
entrance.  A  marked  hush  continued  in  the 
place. 

"Some  celebrity,"  Adriance  interpreted, 
impatiently.  "Confound  Masterson's  whims — 


THE  CABARET  DANCER 

why  couldn't  he  have  seen  me  at  home?  Now 
he  can't  get  in  until  this  is  over." 

The  music  had  commenced — a  tripping,  lan- 
guorous ballet  suite  from  a  famous  opera.  Into 
the  large,  square  arch  of  the  doorway  a  girl 
drifted  and  stood. 

She  was  a  sullen,  magnificent  creature,  as 
she  faced  the  audience.  Her  full,  red  mouth 
was  straight-lipped,  returning  no  smile  to  the 
welcoming  applause.  It  was  not  possible  to 
imagine  a  dimple  breaking  the  firm  curve  of 
her  rouged  cheek.  Elsie  thought  she  never  had 
seen  a  woman  so  indisputably  handsome,  or  so 
utterly  lacking  in  feminine  allure.  Heaps  of 
satin-black  hair  framed  her  face  and  were  held 
by  jewelled  bandeaux;  her  corsage  was  danger- 
ously low,  retained  in  place  by  narrow  strings 
of  brilliants  over  her  strong,  smooth,  white 
shoulders.  Her  skirts  were  those  of  the  con- 
ventional ballet:  billows  of  spangled  rose- 
colored  tulle.  As  she  began  to  dance,  her  eyes, 
very  large  and  dark  behind  their  darkened 
lashes,  swept  the  spectators  with  a  sombre  alert- 
ness. Elsie  felt  the  glance  pass  across  her  and 
rest  on  Anthony.  Yes,  rest  there,  for  an  instant 


224  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

of  fixed  attention!  But  Adriance  showed  no 
change  of  expression  to  his  wife's  questioning 
regard;  he  watched  the  dancer  with  a  plaoid 
interest,  without  evincing  any  sign  of 
recognition. 

It  was  a  curious  dance,  as  singularly  stripped 
of  womanly  allure  as  the  girl's  beauty.  Yet  it 
was  graceful  and  clever.  She  bent  and  swayed 
through  the  measures,  circling  the  room  with 
a  studied  coquetry  cold  as  indifference ;  posing 
now  and  then  with  a  rose  she  lifted  to  touch 
lips  or  cheek.  The  audience  looked  on  with  a 
sustained  tension  of  interest  that  the  perform- 
ance did  not  seem  to  warrant.  Elsie  noticed 
that  the  men  laughed  or  evinced  faint  embar- 
rassment if  the  dancer  leaned  toward  them,  but 
the  women  clapped  enthusiastically  and  sent 
smiling  glances.  What  was  it  that  these  people 
knew,  but  which  she  and  Anthony  did  not? 
There  was  something 

Just  opposite  the  Adriances  the  dancer  had 
slipped  in  executing  an  intricate  and  difficult 
step.  She  staggered,  catching  herself,  but  not 
before  she  had  reeled  heavily  against  Elsie's 
chair. 


THE  CABARET  DANCER  225 

*  *  Pardon ! ' '  she  panted,  her  voice  low.  *  *  The 
floor  is  too  polished  I" 

For  a  moment  her  eyes  looked  full  into 
Elsie's,  and  they  were  not  dark,  but  a  very 
bright  bine.  The  brush  of  her  naked  arm  and 
shoulder  left  a  streak  of  white  powder  on  the 
other's  sleeve;  a  heavy  fragrance  of  heliotrope 
shook  from  her  garments.  Before  Adriance 
could  rise  she  was  gone. 

"Confounded  clumsiness!"  he  exclaimed, 
with  suppressed  anger.  "Did  she  hurt  you, 
Elsie?" 

"No.  Oh,  no!  Anthony,  I  know  her — I  knew 
her  eyes." 

He  stared  at  his  wife. 

"You  know  her!" 

"I  recognized  her  eyes.  I  do  not  know  who 
she  is,  I  cannot  think;  yet  I  know  her.  She 
knew  me,  too ;  I  saw  it  in  her  face.  And  I  believe 
she  knows  you." 

"Elsie!" 

"She  looked Wait;  she  is  finishing!" 

The  music  was  indeed  rising  to  a  finale.  The 
dancer  glided  to  the  central  arch  through  which 


226  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

she  had  entered,  poised  on  the  verge  of  taking 
flight,  then  raised  both  hands  to  her  head. 

The  black  wig  came  off  with  the  sweeping 
gesture.  The  dancer  was  a  man,  whose  short- 
clipped  auburn  hair  tumbled  in  boyish  disorder 
about  his  powdered  forehead.  But  there  was 
no  look  of  boyhood  in  his  face,  as  he  turned  it 
toward  Adriance's  table;  the  familiar,  reckless 
face  of  Fred  Masterson. 

The  room  was  in  an  uproar  of  laughter  and 
applause.  But  the  dancer  disappeared  without 
acknowledging  or  pausing  to  enjoy  his  success; 
indeed,  as  if  escaping  from  it. 

When  Elsie  ventured  to  look  at  her  husband, 
he  had  one  hand  across  his  eyes.  He  dropped 
it  at  once,  but  avoided  her  gaze  as  if  the  humilia- 
tion were  his  own. 

"Finish  your  coffee/'  he  bade,  his  voice 
roughened  by  a  dry  hoarseness.  "I  want  to 
get  out  of  this — to  get  home." 

"We  have  not  spoken  to  Mr.  Masterson," 
she  hesitatingly  reminded  him.  "He  asked  us 
to  meet  him. ' ' 

"I  suppose  I  have  seen  what  he  wanted  me 
to  see." 


THE  CABARET  DANCER  227 

The  waiter  was  beside  them,  again,  checking 
her  answer.  It  seemed  to  Elsie  that  the  man 
eyed  Anthony  with  a  furtive  and  malicious  com- 
prehension. Had  he  ever  seen  Tony  Adriance 
with  Mrs.  Masterson,  she  wondered?  Did  he 
imagine — she  thrust  away  the  thought. 

"After  all,  dear,  aren't  we  prejudiced?" 
she  essayed,  unconvinced  and  unconvincing 
reason.  ' '  Isn 't  it  really  as  if  he  were  an  actor? ' ' 

"No,  it  isn't!  You  know  it's  not.  It  isn't 
what  he  does  that  these  people  applaud;  they 
applaud  because  he  does  it.  He  succeeds  by 
making  a  show  of  himself,  his  name,  his  posi- 
tion. The  grotesqueness  of  his  being  here  suc- 
ceeds, not  his  work.  Well — are  you  ready?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  submissive  to  his 
mood. 

He  paid  the  check,  and  they  passed  out. 
Elsie  recovered  her  hat  and  coat  from  the  maid, 
in  the  dressing-room  below.  She  was  too  pre- 
occupied to  notice  the  attendant's  inquisitive 
scrutiny,  or  the  frank  stare  of  a  fair-haired  girl 
who  was  making  up  her  complexion  with  elab- 
orate care  before  one  of  the  mirrors.  It  would 
not  have  occurred  to  her,  if  she  had,  that  word 


228  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

had  passed  down  the  staff  of  servants  that  the 
qniet  girl  in  black  was  Mrs.  Tony  Adriance. 
But  without  knowing  her  own  plain  attire  had 
the  reflected  lustre  of  cloth-of-gold,  she  was  too 
feminine  not  to  embrace  with  a  glance  of  faintly 
wistful  admiration  the  furs,  velvets  and  shining 
satins  of  the  wraps  left  in  this  place  by  the 
other  women.  No  preoccupation  could  quite 
ignore  that  array.  There  was  one  coat  of  gray 
velvet  that  matched  her  own  eyes,  lined  with 
poppy-hued  silk  that  matched  her  lips.  A  trifle 
dismayed  by  her  own  frivolity,  she  hastened 
out  from  the  place  of  temptation.  Anthony  was 
waiting  for  her. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD 

THE  damp  cold  of  a  March,  night  closed 
chillingly  around  the  two,  as  they  passed 
through  the  revolving  door  into  the  street.  The 
restaurant  did  not  face  on  Broadway,  the  street 
of  a  million  lights;  for  a  moment  they  seemed 
to  have  stepped  into  darkness,  after  the  dazzle 
of  light  just  left.  Adriance  turned  away  from 
the  vociferous  proffers  of  taxicabs,  with  an 
economy  prompted  by  Elsie's  guiding  hand 
rather  than  his  own  prudence.  Indeed,  his  great 
amazement  and  vicarious  shame  for  Masterson 
left  him  with  slight  attention  for  ordinary 
matters. 

But  they  were  not  allowed  to  reach  the  sub- 
way, and  return  as  they  had  come.  As  they 
neared  the  station  entrance,  a  limousine  rolled 
up  to  the  curb  and  halted  across  their  path. 
The  car's  occupant  threw  open  the  door  before 
the  chauffeur  could  do  so,  and  leaned  out. 

"Come  in,"  commanded,   rather  than  in- 


230  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

vited  Masterson's  voice.  "You  didn't  wait  for 
me,  so  I  had  a  chase  to  catch  you.  Put  Mrs. 
Adriance  in,  Tony,  and  tell  the  man  where  you 
want  to  go.  The  ferry,  is  it?  All  right;  tell 
him  so." 

He  spoke  with  an  abrupt  impatience  and 
strain  that  excused  much  by  its  account  of  his 
sick  nerves.  Adriance  complied  without  objec- 
tion. Before  she  quite  realized  the  situation, 
Elsie  found  herself  seated  beside  him,  opposite 
Masterson  in  the  warmed  interior  of  the  car. 

The  air  of  the  limousine  was  not  only  warm, 
but  perfumed.  Without  analyzing  their  reason, 
it  struck  both  the  Adriances  as  peculiarly  shock- 
ing that  this  should  be  so.  Elsie  identified  the 
white  heliotrope  scent  worn  by  the  dancer.  The 
globe  set  in  the  ceiling  was  not  lighted,  but  the 
street  lamps  shone  in,  showing  the  thinness  of 
Masterson's  flushed  face  and  its  haggardness, 
accentuated  by  smudges  of  make-up  imperfectly 
removed.  Elsie  felt  a  quivering  embarrassment 
for  him,  and  a  desperate  hopelessness  of  finding 
anything  possible  to  say.  She  divined  that 
Anthony  was  experiencing  the  same  feelings, 
but  intensified. 


THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD  231 

The  car  rolled  smoothly  around  Columbus 
Circle  and  settled  into  a  steady  pace  up  Broad- 
way. The  rush  of  after-theatre  traffic  was  long 
since  over,  the  streets  comparatively  clear. 
Masters  on  spoke  first,  with  a  defiance  that 
attempted  to  be  light. 

"Well,  haven't  you  any  compliments  for  me? 
I've  been  told  I  do  it  pretty  well.  That's  the 
only  thing  I  learned  at  college  of  any  use  to 
me!" 

"How  did  you  come ?"  Adriance  began, 

brusquely.  "I  mean — what  sent  you  there,  to 
that?  Why,  Fred ?" 

"I  thought  it  was  you,  Tony,  until  to-day," 
was  the  dry  retort.  "I've  thought  so  ever  since 
I  found  out  who  was  financing  the  case.  Until 
this  morning,  I  believed  Lucille  lied  when  she 
told  me  you  were  married.  I  suppose  I  should 
apologize  to  you;  consider  it  done,  if  you  like." 

{ '  Don 't ! "  Adriance  begged.  His  hand  closed 
sharply  over  his  wife's. 

"We  have  been  married  since  last  Novem- 
ber, ' '  she  gravely  came  to  his  aid.  ' '  I  am  sure 
Mrs.  Masterson  told  you  only  the  truth  in  that. 
Indeed,  the  announcement  was  published  in  the 


232  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

newspapers!  Since  then,  we  have  been  living 
where  you  saw  me  this  morning;  on  a  honey- 
moon quite  out  of  the  world." 

"I  don't  read  more  of  any  newspaper  than 
the  first  pages,"  Masterson  returned.  "I  see 
you  two  do  not  read  even  so  much,  or  you  would 
hardly  have  been  taken  by  surprise,  to-night. 
Shocked,  were  you,  Tony?  I  suppose  I  would 
have  been,  myself,  once.  Now " 

"Now ?"  Adriance  prompted,  after 

waiting. 

Masterson  faced  his  friend  with  a  sudden 
blaze  in  his  hollow  eyes. 

"Now,  I  am  through  with  being  shocked  at 
myself,  through  with  thinking  of  myself  or 
sparing  myself  and  other  people.  Can't  you 
see,  can't  you  guess  for  whom  alone  I  would 
do  this — or  anything  else?  Have  you  forgotten 
Holly?  I  may  not  have  a  wife,  but  I  have  a  son. 
And  I  will  not  have  my  son  reared  as  I  was, 
married  as  I  was,  and  ruined  as  I  am.  I  am 
going  to  have  money,  if  I  fish  it  out  of  the  gut- 
ter, to  take  him  away  to  some  clean,  far-off 
place.  There  I  shall  rear  him  myself,  under- 
stand! He  shall  never  know  this  Fred 


THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD  233 

Masterson.  Roughing  it  outdoors  will  put  me 
in  fit  condition  long  before  he  is  old  enough  to 
criticise.  He's  got  a  fine  little  body,  Tony!  I'll 
have  him  as  hard  and  straight  as  a  pine  tree. 
I  '11  teach  him  to  work.  What  will  I  care  for  the 
squalls  of  this  corner  of  the  world,  when  I  have 
done  that?  Since  Lucille  divorced  me,  I've 
stripped  my  mind  of  a  good  deal  of  hampering 
romance." 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  exclamation  of 
both  his  listeners. 

"Divorced  you?"  Adriance  echoed,  stifled  by 
the  pressure  of  warring  emotions.  "Divorced 
you,  after  all?" 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  didn't  know?" 
He  studied  the  two  faces  with  incredulous  aston- 
ishment; then,  convinced  by  their  patent  hon- 
esty, shrugged  derision  of  himself.  "Conceited 
lot,  all  of  us !  We  think  if  our  tea-cups  drop, 
the  crash  is  heard  around  the  world.  Yes,  I 
have  been  a  single  man  for  three  months.  You 
have  been  away  for  six,  remember.  But  it  went 
through  very  quietly.  Lucille  is  strong  for  pro- 
priety and  conventions.  She  even,"  his  face 
darkened  with  an  angry  flood  of  bitterness  start- 


234  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

ling  as  a  self -betrayal,  "she  even  is  willing  to 
pay  pretty  highly  for  them.  Holly " 

The  sentence  remained  unfinished.  Elsie's 
memory  returned  to  that  morning,  when  Mas- 
terson  told  her  that  he  had  lost  Holly.  She 
glimpsed  his  meaning  now. 

The  automobile  had  long  since  left  behind 
the  flash  and  glitter  of  theatrical  Broadway. 
When  the  gliding  silence  of  the  progress  was 
suddenly  broken  by  a  blast  of  the  car's  electric 
horn  sounding  warning  to  some  late  pedestrian, 
the  three  within  started  as  if  at  an  unnatural 
happening. 

"It  went  through  quietly,"  Masterson  sul- 
lenly picked  up  the  broken  thread,  "because  she 
bargained  with  me.  She  said  that  if  I  made  no 
defence,  she  would  let  me  take  Holly.  Well,  I 
kept  my  word;  I  stayed  away  from  the  whole 
business  and  didn't  even  get  a  lawyer — like  a 
fool.  I  don't  even  know  what  they  said  about 
me.  I  didn't  care,  since  she  wanted  it."  And 
then  she  asked  the  court  for  the  custody  of 
Holly;  and  got  him.  It  was  only  for  the  boy's 
good,  she  says ;  I  was  not  fit  to  have  charge  of 
him." 


THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD  235 

"Oh!"  Elsie  gasped. 

Masterson  lighted  a  cigarette  with  an  at- 
tempt at  unconcern.  He  had  a  singular  difficulty 
in  bringing  the  burning  match  in  contact  with 
the  end  of  the  little  paper  tube — a  lack  of  co- 
ordination between  the  nerves  and  muscles  that 
held  a  sinister  meaning  for  one  able  to  interpret 
the  signs. 

"Thanks,"  he  acknowledged  the  unworded 
sympathy.  "Maybe  you  know  I  was  fit,  then; 
or,  at  least,  would  have  been  fit  if  I  had  had 
him.  Not  having  him,  I  went  to — I  beg  your 
pardon,  Mrs.  Adriance." 

"Fred "  Adriance  essayed. 

The  other  man  hushed  him  with  a  gesture. 

"I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say,  Tony. 
Don't!  My  wife,  my  late  wife  and  I  have  man- 
aged this  business.  Keep  out  of  what  doesn't 
concern  you.  Here,  I  '11  give  her  due  to  her,  too  I 
If  I  had  not  been  weak,  all  this  would  never  have 
happened.  But  if  she  had  played  the  game,  it 
would  never  have  happened,  either.  Well,  I 
lose.  But  Holly  shall  not  pay  for  the  game  he 
had  no  share  in.  I  am  telling  you  two  what  I 
have  told  no  one  else.  When  I  have  enough 


236  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

money,  I  shall  buy  Holly  from  his  mother  and 
take  him  to  Oregon.  Lucille  always  needs 
money.  Phillips  is  out  there,  Tony.  Do  you 
remember  my  Cousin  Phil  f  Well,  I  started  him 
out  there  ten  years  ago ;  sold  my  first  automobile 
to  help  him  out  of  a  bad  scrape.  He  says  there 
is  room  for  me;  work  that  will  support  any 
man  who  doesn't  want  too  much.  They  raise 
square  miles  of  fruit.  I  only  wish  it  was  the 
other  side  of  the  world!" 

The  limousine  swung  to  the  left,  jarring 
across  a  network  of  car  tracks.  They  were  turn- 
ing down  to  the  ferry.  Elsie  nestled  her  hand 
into  her  husband's,  divining  his  pain. 

"Nice  machine,  this,"  Masterson  observed, 
casually.  "One  thing,  I'm  not  making  a  gutter 
exit!  You  wouldn't  believe  what  they  pay  me 
for  my  bit  of  college  theatrical  work.  I  did  it 
at  first  on  a  bet,  after  a  supper  party  I  gave 
to  celebrate  my  freedom.  I  think  it  must  annoy 
Lucille  considerably.  It  suits  me;  and  there 
isn't  any  other  way  I  could  earn  so  quickly  what 
I  need.  Here  we  are." 

The  automobile  had  stopped,  and  the  chauf- 
feur threw  open  the  door. 


THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD  287 

"The  ferry-boat  is  just  coming  across,  sir," 
he  stated. 

"Very  well,'*  his  employer  dismissed  Tn'm, 
"Mrs.  Adriance,  you  had  better  stay  in  here 
until  the  boat  docks ;  it  is  cold,  to-night.  Tony 
and  I  will  go  buy  the  tickets." 

"You  might  say  Elsie,  still,"  she  answered 
gently.  "You  know  we  were  always  good 
friends." 

"You  are  good  to  say  so  now,"  he  returned. 
"Thank  you." 

The  two  men  did  not  buy  the  tickets ;  instead, 
they  walked  side  by  side  across  the  rough,  cob- 
blestone square  in  front  of  the  ferry-housa 
Adriance  was  pale,  but  steadily  set  of  face  and 
determination  to  have  done,  here  and  now  with 
all  deceit. 

"Fred,  I've  got  to  clear  things  between  us," 
he  forced  the  distasteful  speech.  *  *  Before  I  met 
my  wife,  I  did  see  a  great  deal  of  Mrs.  Master- 
son.  You  spoke  a  while  ago  of  believing  me 
responsible  for  her  wanting  a  divorce.  Once  I 
might  have  done  such  a  thing,  I  do  not  know. 
But,  I  did  not.  I  went  away,  in  order  that  I 
should  not" 


238  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  other  nodded,  almost  equally  embar- 
rassed by  the  difficult  avowal. 

"That's  all  right,  Tony.  I  understand.  But 
don't  blame  me  too  much  for  my  mistake.  Do 
you  know  who  paid  all  the  expenses  of  the  case, 
whose  influence  kept  it  out  of  the  newspapers 
as  much  as  possible — in  short,  who  managed 
the  whole  campaign?  Except  about  Holly;  that 
was  a  woman's  trick!  Do  you  know?" 

' l  Why,  no.    How  should  I  ? " 

The  boat  was  in  the  slip;  across  the  clank 
of  unwinding  chains,  the  fall  of  gangways  and 
tread  of  men  and  horses,  Masterson's  reply 
came: 

"Your  father." 

The  amazing  statement  stunned  Adriance  be- 
yond the  possibility  of  reply.  No  outcry,  no 
denial  of  complicity  could  have  been  so  convinc- 
ing as  the  utter  stupefaction  of  the  regard  he 
fixed  upon  his  friend.  What  had  the  senior 
Adriance  to  do  with  this  affair?  What  had  he 
to  do  with  Lucille  Masterson? 

"It  is  true,"  Masterson  answered  his  doubt. 
"Now  you  know  why  I  did  not  believe  you  were 
married,  until  I  met  your  wife,  this  morning. 


THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD  239 

And,"  lie  hesitated,  "that  is  why,  when  I  did 
understand,  I  brought  you  to  see  me,  to-night. 
I  could  not  say  so  before  Mrs.  Adriance,  but 
evidently  your  father  is  not  pleased  with  your 
marriage,  since  you're  living  like  a  laborer, 
across  the  river.  Make  no  mistake,  Tony;  your 
father  never  in  his  life  did  anything  without 
reason.  If  he  got  Lucille  her  divorce,  why,  he 
knows  you  admired  her,  once.  And  he  always 
liked  her,  himself.  Suppose  he  figured  that  if 
she  were  free,  you  might  wish  to  become  so! 
Why  not  T  We  all  know  couples  where  both  par- 
ties have  been  divorced  and  married  several 
times,  and  no  one  says  a  word  against  them." 

The  recoil  that  shook  Adriance  was  strong 
as  physical  sickness.  Like  a  woman,  he  was  glad 
of  the  darkness. 

Divorce  between  Elsie  and  himself?  He 
could  have  laughed  at  the  coarse  absurdity  of 
the  idea,  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  disgust  and 
desire  to  get  away  from  the  subject. 

"We  shall  miss  the  boat,"  he  said  curtly. 
"Thank  you,  Fred,  but  that  is  all  nonsense. 
The  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  you  are  sick — 
and  no  wonder!  Come,  man,  pull  yourself  up 


240  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

and  you'll  get  past  all  this.  Why,  you  are  only 
twenty-eight;  start  over  again  here!  Drop 
everything  and  come  home  with  Elsie  and  me 
for  a  while.  You  saw  how  we  live ;  it  isn't  much, 
perhaps,  but  you  would  get  back  your  health. 
And  we  can  force  Mrs.  Masterson  to  let  you  have 
Holly  part  of  the  time,  at  least. ' ' 

"I  saw  the  way  you  live,"  Masterson  re- 
peated. "Yes.  And  you  see  the  way  I  live.  I'm 
no  preacher,  but  measure  them  up  and  choose  if 
ever  you  feel  discontented,  Tony.  As  for  taking 
me  home,  neither  of  us  could  stand  it.  I  drink 
all  day  to  keep  myself  merry  enough  to  stand 
that  restaurant,  and  take  morphine  at  night  to 
keep  myself  asleep.  No,  we  will  not  talk  about 
it.  I  must  put  this  through  in  my  own  way,  and 
then  leave  this  part  of  the  earth.  I  can  drop 
all  this  at  once  when  I  am  ready.  I  am  no  weak- 
ling physically." 

The  two  walked  back  to  the  car.  Just  before 
they  reached  it,  Masterson  closed  the  discus- 
sion. 

"Think  over  what  I've  told  you.  You  can't 
love  your  wife  any  more  than  I  did  Lucille." 
He  shivered  in  the  damp  air,  drawing  his  fur- 


THE  OTHER  MAN'S  ROAD  241 

lined  coat  closer  about  him.  "I  couldn't  keep 
her,  though  I  tried  hard,  at  first.  Wish  you 
better  luck." 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  when 
Adriance  slipped  his  key  into  the  clumsy  old 
lock  of  his  house-door,  while  Elsie  perched  her- 
self on  the  railing  of  the  porch.  Within  they 
heard  his  dog  barking  boisterous  welcome. 

"Up  to  work  at  seven,"  he  commented,  as 
the  clock  struck  simultaneously  with  the  open- 
ing of  the  door.  But  there  was  no  complaint  in 
his  tone.  He  threw  his  arm  around  Elsie  and 
drew  her  across  the  threshold  with  a  deep  breath 
of  relief. 

"Let  me  light  the  lamp,"  she  offered. 

" I'll  light  it. ' '  He  held  her  closer.  ' « Wait 
a  moment;  the  hearth  gives  glow  enough.  I 
have  been  thinking — if  it  should  be  a  boy,  I 
would  like  to  call  our  son  after  that  jolly  old 
ancestor  of  yours :  the  black-sloop  man,  Martin 
Galvez. ' ' 

"Not  Anthony?" 

"No." 

The  brevity  of  the  answer  silenced  her.  She 
gave  her  consent  more  delicately  than  in  words. 


242  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

But  still  Adriance  did  not  move  toward  the 
lamp,  or  release  his  companion. 

"Elsie,  you  are  happy,  aren't  you?" 

"More  than  happy,  dear." 

"If  ever  you  are  not,  if  you  want  anything 
you  have  not  got,  tell  me.  You  know  I  am  not 
going  to  keep  you  in  this  poor  place  always, 
or  let  you  work  for  me ;  I  am  working  towards 
better  things  for  you,  now.  I  have  not  told  you, 
yet — I  was  promoted  to  a  new  position  to-day. 
I  have  work  inside  the  factory,  and  some  indi- 
viduality. I  am  no  longer  just  one  of  a  troup 
of  chauffeurs.  And,  of  course,  this  is  only  a 
beginning.  It  is  all  for  you,  everything,  will 
you  remember?  If  ever — I'm  often  stupid  and, 
well,  a  man! — if  ever  you  find  me  lacking,  you 
will  tell  me,  won't  you?" 

She  clasped  her  hands  over  the  hand  that  held 
her.  This  ending  to  the  day  of  doubt  and  anxiety 
closed  her  round  with  a  hush  of  deep  content. 
She  wanted  to  cry  out  her  love  and  happiness 
and  gratitude  for  his  tenderness,  to  exalt  him 
above  herself.  But  with  a  new  wisdom,  she 
did  not.  Where  he  had  placed  her,  she  stood. 

"  Yes, "  she  assented.    "  Yes. " 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  GUITAR  OP  AMENTA  or  THE  SEA 

THAT  one  day,  in  a  mood  of  fierce  impatience, 
had  seized  upon  Anthony  Adriance  and  hurried 
him  through  a  range  of  feeling  and  experience 
such  as  Time  usually  brings  in  leisurely  se- 
quence, spaced  apart.  From  Elsie's  confidence 
in  the  morning,  with  its  moving  love  and  pride 
and  awe  he  in  nowise  was  afraid  to  name  holy,  he 
had  gone  to  the  spectacle  of  his  friend's  degra- 
dation in  the  tawdry  restaurant.  And  as  a  com- 
pletion, he  had  been  confronted  with  the  new 
and  ugly  vision  of  a  father  he  could  not  honor. 

He  always  had  respected  his  father  very 
sincerely,  and  felt  more  affection  for  him  than 
either  of  them  ever  had  realized.  He  had  ad- 
mired the  success  of  the  elder  Adriance,  and 
secretly  regretted  that  he  was  not  allowed  to 
work  with  him  or  share  it  except  by  spending  its 
proceeds.  His  hope  of  a  reconciliation  had  not 
been  all  mercenary.  Now  all  that  was  thrown 
down,  an  image  overturned  and  shattered.  He 

243 


244  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

saw  only  a  selfish,  narrow-minded  man,  schem- 
ing to  divorce  a  pretty  woman  from  her  husband 
in  order  that  she  might  be  free  to  come  between 
his  son  and  the  unwelcome  wife  he  had  taken. 
For  of  course  Elsie  was  judged  by  the  servant's 
position  she  had  held ;  there  was  no  one  to  tell  of 
her  gentle  birth  and  breeding.  Anthony  had 
understood  this,  and  had  looked  forward  with 
eager  anticipation  to  enlightening  his  father, 
some  day  when  his  other  plans  were  quite  ready. 

He  had  meant  that  day  to  be  soon;  now  he 
knew  that  it  would  never  come  in  the  way  he 
had  fancied.  And  the  loss  of  an  ideal  hurt. 
Masterson  had  told  him  the  truth ;  there  was  no 
escaping  the  logical  inference  to  be  drawn  from 
it.  Anthony  wasted  no  energy  in  trying,  in- 
stead addressing  himself  still  more  closely  to 
the  work  in  hand. 

He  worked  harder  than  ever,  at  the  mill,  but 
the  buoyant  enthusiasm  was  gone.  Now  he 
dreaded  the  possibility  that  Mr.  Goodwin  might 
speak  to  Mr.  Adriance  of  the  young  man  who 
bore  his  name  and  who  was  making  such  changes 
in  the  shipping  department.  For  Anthony  did 
not  content  himself  with  regulating  the  truck- 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  245 

ing  system.  He  had  inherited  his  father 's 
ability,  although  the  unused  tool  had  lain  un- 
discovered. His  attention  aroused,  he  found 
other  slack  lines,  and  indicated  how  to  tighten 
them  to  taut  efficiency.  Mr.  Goodwin  visited 
the  underground  room  more  than  once,  observed 
and  approved.  Cook,  won  by  the  new  man's  tact 
that  never  slighted  or  criticised  injuriously  his 
former  chief  and  present  associate,  aided  him 
with  warm  co-operation.  Anthony  found  his 
salary  increased.  When  Bansome  returned, 
after  his  illness,  he  was  given  a  new  position, 
upstairs. 

The  evenings  in  the  little  red  house  were  no 
longer  entirely  devoted  to  play,  after  that  night 
spent  abroad.  Adriance  took  to  keeping  a  book 
of  records,  in  the  form  of  cryptic  notes  and  col- 
umns of  figures.  ''Chauffeur's  accounts,"  he 
called  them,  when  Elsie  questioned;  and  she 
laughed  acceptance  of  the  evasion,  forbearing 
to  tease  him  with  curiosity. 

Long  before,  there  had  arrived  the  replies 
to  the  letters  of  announcement  he  and  Elsie  had 
written  to  her  parents,  and  Adriance  had  been 
touched  home  by  the  serious,  graciously  cordial 


246  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

welcome  extended  to  the  unknown  son-in-law. 
He  had  promised  himself,  and  Elsie,  that  some 
time  a  visit  to  Louisiana  should  be  paid.  Since 
that,  she  had  described  the  neighborhood,  the 
countryside  and  people,  with  her  knack  of  vivid 
word-sketching,  until  all  lay  as  clearly  before 
him  as  a  place  seen.  Now  he  recalled  this  with 
a  new  consideration. 

"Do  you  remember  the  old  house  and  planta- 
tion that  you  once  told  me  about?  he  asked  her, 
one  Sunday  morning.  "The  deserted  place, 
that  had  been  for  sale  so  long.  Do  you  suppose 
it  is  still  for  sale?" 

"It  was,  the  last  time  Virginia  wrote,"  she 
replied,  regarding  him  questioningly.  "She 
spoke  of  a  picnic  held  under  the  old  trees. ' ' 

"If  I — well,  was  crowded  out  of  here,  would 
you  be  content  to  try  life  down  there  ?  I  remem- 
bered yesterday  that  I  own  some  rather  valua- 
ble stuff  left  me  by  my  mother;  nothing  very 
much,  just  jewelry  she  had  as  a  girl.  I  do  not 
like  the  idea  of  selling  it,  but  if  I  am  forced  into 
a  corner,  it  would  buy  such  a  place  for  us.  I 
have  some  ideas  I  would  like  to  try  out." 

Elsie  set  down  the  salad-bowl  with  which  she 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  247 

was  busied;  her  rain-gray;  eyes  grave,  she  con- 
sidered her  husband. 

"Of  what  are  you  thinking,  Anthony?" 

Adriance  looked  away.  Even  to  her,  he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  speak  of  his  lost  con- 
fidence in  his  father  or  to  say  whom  he  now 
feared  as  an  enemy.  Mr.  Adriance  could  not 
divide  Anthony  and  his  wife  without  their  con- 
sent, but  he  could  make  it  bitterly  hard  for  them 
to  live  together.  Anthony  had  known  of  men 
who  had  incurred  his  father's  enmity,  and  the 
memory  was  not  reassuring.  Before  his  inter- 
view with  Masterson,  he  would  have  ridiculed 
the  idea  of  such  a  situation  between  his  father 
and  himself;  now,  he  was  uncertain. 

1 '  Put  on  your  hat  and  coat, ' '  he  evaded  the 
question.  "Come  for  a  walk;  I  want  to  show 
you  something." 

"And  our  dinner?"  she  demurred. 

"Never  mind  it.  We  will  eat  scrambled 
eggs." 

Laughing,  she  complied. 

"What  am  I  going  to  see,  Anthony?" 

* '  A  house, ' '  briefly. 

The  walk  took  them  quite  away  from  the 


248  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

neighborhood  of  such  small  cottages  as  their 
own.  In  fact,  the  house  before  which  Anthony 
finally  halted  was  standing  so  much  away  from 
any  others  as  scarcely  to  be  called  in  a  neighbor- 
hood, at  all.  It  stood  out  on  a  little  spur  of 
the  Palisades,  delightfully  nestled  in  a  bit  of 
woodland  and  lawns  of  its  own. 

' '  There ! "  he  indicated  it.    ' '  Pretty ! ' ' 

Elsie  looked,  with  a  satisfying  seriousness. 
The  house  was  so  new  that  the  builder's  self- 
advertisement  still  jostled  the  sign  offering  for 
sale:  "this  modern  residence,  all  improve- 
ments." 

"I  love  it,"  she  pronounced.  "Those  white 
cement  houses  are  adorable;  it  looks  as  if  it 
were  made  of  cream-candy.  What  deep  porches, 
like  caves  of  white  coral;  and  how  deliciously 
the  light  gleams  in  those  cunning,  stained-glass 
windows !  ,  I  suppose  they  are  set  up  the  stairs  ! 
It  is  a  nice  size,  too;  large  enough  to  be  quite 
luxurious,  but  not  so  large  as  to  be  appalling. 
How  did  you  happen  to  notice  it,  dear?" 

"I  took  this  road  for  a  short  cut,  one  day. 
Look  what  a  view  you  have  up  here.  One  must 
see  twenty  miles  up  and  down  the  river,  and 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  249 

over  half  New  York.  But  it  is  open  to  inspec- 
tion; let  us  go  in." 

" As  if  we  were  considering  buying  it,"  she 
fell  in  with  the  sport.  ''Yes,  and  we  will  be 
very  critical  indeed ;  find  flaws  and  finally  reject 
it.  Eeally,  Anthony,  it  does  not  at  all  compare 
with  our  present  residence." 

"You'll  do,"  he  approved,  drawing  her  up 
the  broad,  lazily-low  steps. 

It  really  was  an  enchanting  house;  a  house 
that  developed  unexpected  charms  to  the  pair 
who  wandered  through  its  empty,  echoing 
rooms  and  halls.  It  indulged  in  nooks,  and  in- 
consequential little  balconies;  it  displayed  a 
most  inviting  window-seat  halfway  up  the 
stairs  that  could  only  have  been  designed  for 
lovers. 

"But  none  have  been  there,  yet,"  Elsie  ob- 
served, lingering  on  the  stairs  to  contemplate 
this  last  allurement.  "Just  think,  Anthony, 
that  it  is  a  mere  debutante  of  a  house  with  its 
ball-book  all  unfilled.  No  one  has  sat  before  its 
hearth,  or  nestled  in  its  window-seat,  or  opened 
its  door  to  let  in  love  or  give  out  charity.  It 
is  an  Undine  house  whose  soul  has  not  yet  en- 


250  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

tered  its  cool  whiteness.  Oh,  I  hope  the  people 
who  buy  it  are  both  fair  and  good,  and  respect 
its  innocence !" 

"Coral  caves  and  Undines — your  sentiment 
is  all  deep-sea,  to-day,"  he  teased  her.  " Elsie, 
doesn't  all  this  make  you  want  something?'* 

"Yes,"  she  promptly  returned  looking  over 
her  shoulder  at  him  as  she  descended.  "I  want 
something  that  I  saw  in  the  Antique  Shop,  yes- 
terday. Will  you  buy  it  for  me  ? ' ' 

"That  depends.    What  is  it?" 

"A  guitar.  A  guitar  that  might  have  been 
made  to  go  with  our  ivory  and  jade  chessmen, 
for  some  heavy-lidded  slave-girl  to  touch  while 
her  master  and  his  favored  guest  moved  the 
pieces  on  the  board.  It  is  El  Aud  of  Arabia;  all 
opalescent  inlay  of  mother-of-pearl,  pegs  and 
frets  marked  with  dull  color.  I  am  quite  sure 
it  belonged  to  some  Eastern  princess ;  perhaps 
Zaraya  the  Fair  or  Alenya  of  the  Sea.  It  will 
sing  of  court-yards  in  Fez  where  fountains 
splash  all  the  hot,  still  days,  of  midnight,  in  the 
Alhambra  gardens,  and  the  nightingales  of  lost 
Zahara.  And  the  antiquarian  person  will  sell  it 
for  five  dollars!" 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  251 

Adriance  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed, 
beguiled  from  serious  thoughts. 

'  *  What  a  peroration !  We  will  buy  the  thing 
on  our  way  home,  Sunday  or  no  Sunday.  That 
is,  if  you  can  play  it  for  me,  and  if  it  will  come 
West  enough  for  the  sleepy,  creepy  song  about 
Maitre  Eaoul  Galvez  that  should  never  be  sung 
.between  midnight  and  dawn?  I  have  nevetf 
heard  that  one,  yet. ' ' 

"You  shall,"  she  promised.  "And  also  the 
song  with  which  Alenya  of  the  Sea  charmed  the 
king  from  his  sadness." 

"Tell  me  first  who  Alenya  was." 

"To-night " 

"No,  now."  Lightly,  but  with  determina- 
tion he  drew  her  across  the  threshold  of  the 
room  that  opened  beside  them.  Opposite  its 
rawly  new,  rose-tiled  fireplace  he  pushed  a  tool- 
chest,  forgotten  by  some  careless  workman, 
and  spread  over  it  his  own  coat,  making  a 
fairly  comfortable  seat.  "Sit  here,"  he  bade. 
"You're  tired,  anyhow;  and  I  have  a  fancy  to 
see  you  here." 

Surprised,  but  yielding  to  his  whim  with  that 
cordial  readiness  he  loved  in  her,  Elsie  obeyed. 


252  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Adriance  established  himself  opposite,  on  the 
comparatively  clean  tiles  of  the  hearth. 

" Shoot,"  he  commanded,  lazily  and  collo- 
quially imperious.  "Your  sultan  listens." 

She  made  a  mutinous  face  at  him  and  slowly; 
removed  her  hat,  laying  it  beside  her  upon  the 
chest.  Her  gaze  dwelt  meditatively  upon  the 
broad  ray  of  sunlight  that  streamed  across  from 
the  nearest  window  and  glittered  between  them 
like  a  golden  sword.  Watching,  Adriance  saw 
her  gray  eyes  grow  reminiscent. 

"Very  well,  I  will  try  to  tell  the  story  as  my 
father  once  told  it  to  me.  But  whether  he  drew  it 
from  those  strange  histories  in  which  he  is  so 
learned,  or  whether  he  drew  it  from  his  own 
fancy,  I  do  not  know.  For  he  is  more  poet  than 
professor,  and  more  antiquarian  than  either — 
and  more  dear  than  you  can  know  until  you  meet 
him,  Anthony.  Now  imagine  yourself  in  our 
neglected  old  garden,  and  listen. 

"Long,  long  ago,  before  the  beauty  of  Cava 
brought  the  Moors  across  Gibraltar  into  Spain, 
there  lived  in  the  East  a  king  named  Selim  the 
Sorrowful.  The  name  was  his  alone.  His  king- 
dom was  as  rich  as  vast;  his  people  were  con- 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  253 

tent ;  it  seemed  that  all  the  country  laughed  ex- 
cept its  ruler.  Upon  him  lay  a  vague,  sinister 
spell,  and  had  so  lain  from  the  hour  of  his  birth. 

'  *  For  always  he  grieved  for  a  thing  unknown, 
a  want  undefined  and  unsatisfied.  Eoyalty  was 
his,  and  youth,  and  absolute  power,  yet,  because 
of  this  great  longing  of  his  he  moved  like  a  beg- 
gar through  his  splendor  and  knew  hunger  of 
the  heart  by  night  and  day.  Wise  men  and  tem- 
ples were  questioned  in  vain,  rich  gifts  vainly 
sent  to  distant  oracles ;  none  could  tell  the  king's 
desire,  or  cure  it.  And  his  dark,  wistful  face 
came  to  be  accepted  by  his  people  as  a  thing 
usual  and  royal. 

"One  day,  when  the  king  walked  alone  in 
his  garden  by  the  sea,  a  strange  mist  crept  over 
the  land  and  water,  silvery,  opalescent,  wonder- 
ful. He  stood,  watching.  Suddenly  a  gigantic 
wave  loomed  through  the  haze  and  swept  curl- 
ing and  hissing  shoreward  to  his  very  feet, 
where  it  broke  with  a  great  sound.  When  the 
glittering  foam  and  spray  fell  away  again,  a 
girl  was  standing  on  the  sands  before  liim  ;  a  girl 
clad  in  the  floating  gray  of  the  mist,  girdled  and 
crowned  with  soft,  dim  pearls.  Her  lustrous 


254  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

eyes  were  green  as  the  heart  of  the  ocean,  and 
when  the  king  gazed  into  them  his  sorrow  shrank 
and  fled. 

"  'Who  are  you,  desire  of  mine?*  asked 
Selim. 

"  'Alenya  of  the  Sea/  she  answered  him, 
and  her  voice  was  the  lap  of  waves  on  a  summer 
night. 

"Then  the  king  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
bore  her  to  his  palace." 

"And  she  cured  him?" 

"Better!  She  satisfied  him.  Never  was  a 
change  more  marvellous;  in  all  the  kingdom 
there  was  no  man  so  happy  as  Selim  the  king. 
Day  and  night,  night  and  day,  he  lingered  by 
the  sea-maiden.  Eiotous  prosperity  came  to  the 
land,  the  fields  yielded  double  crops ;  it  seemed 
that  the  king's  smile  was  a  very  sunshine  of  the 
South. 

"But  by-and-by  superstitious  dread  fell  up- 
on the  people,  and  the  jealous  priests  fostered 
it.  Strange,  strange  and  weirdly  sweet  was  the 
music  that  drifted  from  Alenya's  apartments. 
There  came  a  day  when  the  country  demanded 
that  Selimrput  away  the  evil  enchantress,  or  die. 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  255 

One  month  they  gave  him   for  the  choice." 

"The  men  of  the  East  were  poor  lovers," 
commented  Adriance.  "He  banished  the  sea- 
princess?" 

"Not  at  all!  He  chose  death,  and  a  month 
with  Alenya," 

"Well,  if  he  lived  one  month  exactly  as  he 
willed,  he  had  something. ' ' 

"Very  true,  cynical  person.  But  never  was 
such  month  as  his,  when  the  lonely  man  still 
possessed  his  love  and  the  wearied  king  had 
found  an  excitement.  Intensity  is  the  leap  of  a 
flame,  and  cannot  endure.  When  the  end  of  the 
four  weeks  came — "  she  paused,  her  dark  little 
head  tilted  back,  her  regard  inviting  his  hazard. 

"They  died?" 

"Alenya  sang  to  the  king  for  the  last  time. 
There  is  no  record  of  that  lost  music;  it  is  so  sad 
that  if  it  were  written  the  paper  would  dissolve 
in  tears.  When  it  ceased  the  king  slept,  and 
Alenya  flitted  back  to  the  sea  and  mist,  alone. 
Later  came  the  people  and  awakened  Selim  with 
their  rejoicing,  but  he  stared  in  cold  amazement 
at  the  pageant  of  their  returning  loyalty.  He 
had  forgotten  all." 


256  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Forgotten?" 

"Yes,  for  Alenya's  last  song  had  swept  her 
image  from  his  mind.  From  his  mind,  not  his 
heart ;  he  was  again  Selim  the  Sorrowful,  yearn- 
ing for  the  desire  he  did  not  know. 

"Often,  often  he  wandered  along  the  shore, 
suffering,  uncomprehending.  It  is  written  that 
his  reign  was  long,  and  wise.  But  on  the  night 
he  died  his  attendants  found  the  print  of  a 
small,  wet  hand  on  the  pillow  where  rested  the 
king's  white  head." 

After  a  moment  Adriance  rose. 

"So  he  could  not  keep  his  own,  when  he  had 
it ! "  he  said.  ' '  Thank  you,  Madame  Schehera- 
zade. Now  come  outside  and  I'll  tell  you  why 
I  wanted  you  to  sit  at  that  hearth,  for  luck. ' ' 

Laughing,  she  followed  him,  carrying  her 
hat  in  her  hand. 

"Why,  Anthony?" 

"Because  I  want  this  place  for  our  home," 
he  answered. 

She  uttered  a  faint  exclamation,  genuinely 
dismayed. 

"Want  it?  Why  it  must  be  worth  ten  thou- 
sand dollars,  Anthony !  See,  it  even  has  a  little 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  257 

garage.  And  one  would  need  servants ;  a  maid- 
of -all-work,  at  least. " 

"Yes.  I  am  working  for  all  that.  A  while 
ago  I  thought  I  was  certain  of  it.  Now,  I  am 
afraid  not.  But  you  are  not  going  to  live  the 
way  we  are  now  for  much  longer.  Either  I  shall 
win  my  game,  and  bring  you  here,  or  we  will  go 
South  and  try  a  new  venture. " 

Amazed  and  hushed,  she  met  his  steady, 
resolute  gaze.  She  had  not  glimpsed  this  pur- 
pose of  his  in  all  their  intimate  life  together. 

"Do  you — care  to  tell  me  about  it?"  she 
wondered.  "And,  you  know  I  am  quite,  quite 
happy  as  we  are ;  as  I  must  be  happy  with  you 
always,  win  or  lose,  my  dearest  dear." 

The  place  was  quite  deserted ;  he  kissed  her, 
before  the  blank  windows  of  the  house  that 
never  had  been  lived  in. 

' '  I  know, ' '  he  said.  "  As  I  must  be  with  you, 
and  am!  But  I  will  wait  to  tell  you  the  rest, 
until  I  can  tell  it  all." 

She  accepted  the  frank  reticence.  They 
walked  home  more  quietly  than  they  had  come, 
each  busied  with  thought. 

But  Adriance  did  not  forget  to  stop  at  the 


258  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

antique  shop  for  the  guitar.  The  proprietor 
lived  in  the  rear  of  the  shabby  frame  building 
and  willingly  admitted  his  two  customers,  after 
examining  them  beneath  a  raised  corner  of  the 
sun-bleached  green  curtain, 

"The  guitar?"  he  echoed  Adriance's  re- 
quest. "For  madame?  But  certainly  I" 

He  produced  the  instrument  from  the  wint- 
dow  with  deferential  alacrity.  He  was  a  thin, 
bright-eyed  French  Jew;  quite  ugly  and  quite  old 
enough  in  appearance  to  justify  Elsie's  asser- 
tion that  he  was  the  Wandering  Jew  and  this 
the  very  shop  of  Hawthorne's  tale.  She  smiled 
at  "him,  with  a  mischievous  recollection  of  this, 
as  she  pulled  off  her  gloves  to  finger  the  rusty 
strings. 

1 '  It  is  a  good  guitar, ' '  she  approved.  ' '  And 
gay,  with  all  this  mother-of-pearl  inlay  and  the 
little  colored  stones  set  in  the  pegs !  But  these 
wire  strings  must  come  off,  Anthony.  They  are 
too  loud  and  too  harsh." 

"It  is  so,  madame,"  the  old  man  nodded 
entire  agreement,  before  Adriance  could  speak. 
"The  guitar  was  used  on  the  stage,  where  loud- 
ness !"  He  shrugged.  "Never  would  you 


THE  GUITAR  OF  ALENYA  259 

guess,  madame,  who  brought  that  instrument 
in  to  me  last  week." 

"No?"  Elsie  wondered,  politely  interested. 

"It  was  that  enormous  Eussian  who  for- 
merly rode  beside  your  husband  in  the  motor 
wagon,  madame.  He  has  not  a  head,  that 
Michael,  but  he  has  a  heart.  About  the  cines  he 
is  mad — the  moving  pictures,  I  would  say.  Well 
then,  into  the  poor  boarding-house  where  he 
lives  came  an  actress.  She  was  out  of  work, 
or  she  would  not  have  been  there,  bien  surf 
The  guitar  was  hers.  Michael  brought  it  here 
to  sell  for  her.  I  believe  she  is  sick.  Because 
she  is  of  the  stage,  he  is  a  slave  to  her." 

"He  is  in  love?" 

"He,  madame!  It  has  not  even  occurred  to 
him.  He  would  not  presume." 

"Poor  idealist!"  said  Adriance.  "We  will 
take  the  theatrical  guitar,  but  wrap  it  up  so  I 
can  get  home  without  someone  tossing  me  a 
penny." 

He  laughed  as  he  spoke,  and  had  forgotten 
the  guitar's  story  before  they  reached  Alaric 
Cottage.  But  Elsie  neither  laughed  nor  forgot. 
That  evening,  as  she  sat  across  the  hearth  from 


260  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Anthony,  evoking  music  gay  or  weird  for  his 
enchantment,  she  thought  much  of  the  girl  who 
had  last  played  her  decorative  instrument. 

"Is  it  my  guitar,  truly,  Anthony  1"  she  ques- 
tioned, at  last. 

"It  certainly  isn't  mine,"  he  retorted  teas- 
ingly. 

She  made  a  grimace  at  him.  But  she  also 
made  a  resolve. 


CHAPTER 
BUSSIAIT  MIKE  AND  MAITEE  EAOTJL  GALVEZ 

RUSSIAN  MIKE  lived  in  a  settlement  perhaps 
a  mile  back  from  the  river  road.  He  usually 
passed  the  Adriances'  house  each  morning,  a 
few  moments  earlier  than  the  lighter-footed 
Anthony  set  forth,  whose  swinging  stride  car- 
ried him  two  steps  to  the  big  man's  one.  Elsie 
had  long  since  made  acquaintance  with  her  hus- 
band's  assistant.  During  the  bitter  weather  she 
frequently  had  called  him  from  the  snow-piled 
road  to  warm  his  slow  blood  with  a  cup  of  her 
vivifying  Creole  coffee.  The  Monday  morning 
following  the  purchase  of  the  guitar,  she  knew 
just  when  to  run  down  the  path  and  find  the 
bulky,  lounging  figure  passing  her  gate. 

At  the  sight  of  the  girl  in  her  lilac-hued 
frock,  a  drift  of  white-wool  scarf  wound  about 
her  shoulders,  her  dark  little  head  shining 
almost  bronze  in  the  bright  morning  light,  Mike 
came  to  a  halt  and  awkwardly  jerked  at  his 
coarse  cap.  It  had  flaps  that  fastened  down 

261 


262  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

under  his  chin,  so  that  he  was  embarrassed 
equally  by  the  difficulty  of  removing  his  head- 
gear and  the  incowvenance  of  remaining  cov- 
ered. But  Elsie's  smile  was  a  sunshine  of  the 
heart  that  melted  such  chills  of  doubt,  as  she 
came  up  to  him. 

"  Good-morning,  Michael.  Thank  you  for 
bringing  back  my  kitty-puss,  Saturday  night. 
She  will  run  away,  somehow." 

"It  ain't  nothing,  ma'am,"  he  deprecated, 
confused,  yet  gratified. 

"It  was  very  kind.  Michael,"  she  consider- 
ately lowered  her  eyes  to  her  breeze-blown 
scarf,  "yesterday  Mr.  Adriance  bought  a  guitar 
for  me,  from  the  antique  shop.  We  heard  where 
it  came  from — how  you  brought  it.  Will  you 
tell  the  lady  who  owned  it  that  I  should  be  sorry 
to  keep  a  thing  she  might  miss?  Tell  her, 
please,  that  I  hope  she  will  soon  grow  well,  and 
when  she  is  ready  I  shall  be  happy  to  return 
the  guitar  to  her.  We  will  just  play  that  she 
lent  it  to  me  for  a  while." 

His  rough  face  and  massive  neck  slowly  red- 
dened to  match  his  fiery  hair. 

"You,  you "  he  stammered,  inarticulate. 


RUSSIAN  MIKE  AND  MAITRE  RAOUL  263 

His  mittened  fist  wrung  the  nearest  fence  pal- 
ing. "I  ain't !  Thank  you,  lady." 

Mischief  curled  Elsie 's  lips  like  poppy  petals, 
as  she  contemplated  the  discomfited  giant. 

"Is, she  very  pretty,  Michael?" 

"No,'  ma'am,"  was  the  unexpected  avowal. 
' '  Not  'less  she 's  dolled  up  for  actin '.  She 's  nice, 
just.  I  guess  many  ain't  like  the  swell  one  Andy 
used  to  work  for:  dolled  up  any  time." 

"Andy?  Mr.  Adriance?  He  never 
worked " 

"For  an  actress;  yes,  ma'am,"  finished 
Mike,  calmly  assertive.  "He  treated  her  to  tea, 
the  day  after  Christmas,  when  we  was  sent  over 
to  New  York.  Ain't  you  seen  her?  Swell 
blonde,  with  awful  big  sort  of  light  eyes  an* 
nice  clothes  on?"  He  leaned  against  the  frail 
old  fence,  shutting  his  eyes  reminiscently.  * '  She 

had  on  some  kind  of  perfumery !  Since  I 

seen  her,  nobody  else  ain't  very  good-lookinV 

"He  treated  her  to  tea?"  Elsie  faintly  re- 
peated. She  did  not  intend  an  espial  upon 
Anthony;  the  question  was  born  of  pain  and 
bewilderment. 

"She  ast  him  to.    They  went  to  a  eatin7 


264  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

place  an'  I  watched  the  truck.  Tony,  she  called 
him."  Mike  ponderously  straightened  himself 
and  prepared  to  depart.  "I  guess  I'll  get  to 
work,  ma'am." 

Elsie  nodded,  and  turning,  crept  back. 

Adriance  had  appeared  on  the  threshold  of 
the  cottage,  his  dog  leaping  about  him  in  the 
daily  disappointed,  daily  renewed  hope  of 
accompanying  the  worshipful  master.  He  was 
whistling  and  fumbling  in  his  pockets  for  a 
match,  as  he  stood.  But  he  was  struck  dumb 
and  motionless  by  the  change  in  the  pale  girl 
who  turned  from  the  gate.  She  seemed  almost 
groping  her  way  up  the  path. 

"Elsie!"  he  called,  springing  down  the 
steps.  "Why,  Elsie?" 

To  his  utter  dismay,  she  crumpled  into  his 
extended  arms,  her  eyes  shut. 

He  gathered  her  to  him  and  swept  her  into 
the  house,  himself  sick  with  absolute  panic.  Ill- 
ness was)  so  new  to  them;  he  did  even  know 
of  a  doctor  nearer  than  the  stately  and  impor- 
tant family  physician  in  New  York.  He  felt  the 
world  rock  beneath  his  feet;  his  world,  which 
held  only  his  wife.  Trembling,  he  laid  her  on 


RUSSIAN  MIKE  AND  MAlTRE  RAOUL  265 

their  bed  and  knelt  beside  it,  her  head  still  on 
his  arm. 

"Elsie!"  he  choked,  his  eyes  searching  her 
face.  "Girl!" 

Perhaps  it  was  the  misery  in  his  voice,  per- 
haps the  anguish  of  love  with  which  he  clasped 
her,  but  she  moved  in  his  arms. 

"Yes,"  she  whispered.  "I — I  shall  be  well, 
in  a  moment." 

"You're  not  dying?  Not  in  pain?  What 
can  I  do?" 

"No,  no.  Wait  a  little.  Put  me  down;  I 
must  think." 

He  obeyed,  settling  her  among  the  pillows 
with  infinite  tenderness.  He  dared  not  kiss  her 
lest  he  disturb  recovery,  but  he  carefully  drew 
the  pins  from  her  hair  and  smoothed  out  the 
thick,  soft  ripples.  He  had  a  vague  recollection 
of  reading  somewhere  that  a  woman's  locks 
should  be  unbound  when  she  swooned.  It  was 
in  a  novel,  of  course ;  still,  it  might  be  true.  And 
there  was  one  panacea  that  he  knew ! 

Elsie  did  not  open  her  eyes,  but  she  heard 
him  rise  and  hurry  into  the  other  room.  The 
giddiness  had  left  her  now,  and  she  could  think. 


266  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Of  course  she  had  recognized  Mike's  por- 
trait of  Lucille  Masterson.  She  had  seen  the 
other  woman,  lovely,  imperious  in  assured 
beauty;  almost  had  breathed  the  rich  odor  of 
her  Essence  Enivrante—vfhich  was  not  French 
at  all,  but  distilled  in  an  upper  room  on  Forty- 
second  street  where  individual  perfumes  were 
composed  for  those  who  could  pay  well.  An- 
thony had  gone  to  her,  the  day  after  Christmas. 
The  day  after  that  Christmas!  Lying  there, 
Elsie  recalled  how  she  and  Anthony  had  gone 
together  to  church  in  Yuletide  mood  and  knelt 
hand  in  hand  in  the  bare  little  pew  as  simply 
as  children:  "because  they  had  found  each 
other. "  And  then  their  first  Christmas  dinner 
in  their  holly-decked  house,  when  the  puppy  had 
sat  in  rolypoly  unsteadiness  on  Anthony's 
knee,  regaled  with  food  that  should  have  slain 
him,  while  she  laughed  and  remonstrated  and 
abetted  the  crime.  The  day  after  all  that,  the 
day  after  he  had  given  her  the  garnet  love-ring, 
Anthony  had  gone  to  Mrs.  Masterson  f  Her 
reason  cried  out  against  the  absurdity.  Yet, 
he  had  gone. 

The  clink  of  china  hurriedly  moved  in  the 


RUSSIAN  MIKE  AND  MAITRE  RAOUL  267 

next  room  had  ceased.  Adriance  came  to  the 
bedside,  leaning  over  to  slip  his  arm  carefully 
under  the  pillow  and  raise  the  girl's  head.  In 
his  other  hand  he  held  a  cup  of  hot  tea,  the 
only  medicine  he  knew. 

All  his  wife's  heart  melted  toward  him  in 
his  helpless  helpfulness.  Suddenly  she  remem- 
bered that  he  had  come  back  to  her  from  that 
meeting.  He  had  seen  the  invincible  Lucille, 
yet  had  returned  to  glorious  content  with  his 
wife.  The  ordeal  she  long  had  foreseen  and 
dreaded  was  over.  She  opened  her  eyes  and 
looked  up  at  him  quietly. 

He  looked  like  a  man  who  had  been  ill,  and 
his  gaze  devoured  her,  enfolded  her. 

1  'What  was  it?"  he  asked  unsteadily. 
"What  is  it!" 

"  Anthony,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  that  you 
met  Mrs.  Masterson?"  she  put  her  quiet  ques- 
tion. "Why  did  you  leave  me  to  hear  it  from 
Michael?" 

Startled,  he  still  continued  to  look  down  into 
her  eyes  with  no  confusion  in  his  own. 

"I  suppose  I  should  have  told  you,"  he 
frankly  admitted.  "But  it  wasn't  of  any  im- 


268  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

portance,  and  I — well,  I  cut  such  a  poor  figure 
that  I  dodged  exhibiting  it  to  you.  The  woman 
caught  me  on  the  Avenue  and  fairly  bullied 
me  into  a  tea-room,  with  my  collar  wilted  and 
oily  hands.  I  think  she  did  it  out  of  pure  malice, 
too,  for  she  had  nothing  to  say,  after  all.  But — 
surely  that  did  not  make  you  ill,  Elsie?" 

"You  never  thought  that  I  might  mind  your 
going?" 

"Why?"  he  asked  simply.  "What  is  it  to 
us?  You  don't,  do  you?" 

She  put  up  her  hands  and  clasped  them  be- 
hind his  head. 

"Set  down  the  tea,"  she  laughed,  tears  in 
her  mockery,  "or  we  will  spill  it  between  us. 
Bid  you  think  me  an  inhuman  angel,  dear  dar- 
ling? No,  I  don't  mind;  but  I  did." 

"Like  that?"  amazed.    "So  much?" 

"You  keep  remembering  who  Mait'  Baoul 
Oalvez  raised,"  she  warned,  her  lips  against 
his.  "I'm  mighty  jealous,  man!" 

"But  I  love  you,"  he  stammered  clumsily. 
"That  woman — she  looked  like  a  vixen!  Poor 
Fred!" 

Their  first  misunderstanding  was  passed, 


RUSSIAN  MIKE  AND  MAITRE  RAOUL  269 

and  left  no  shadow.  By  and  by  they  drank  the 
cold  tea  together,  and  Elsie  persuaded  her  nurse 
to  go  to  the  factory  as  nsual. 

"I  was  not  sick,  just  full  of  badness,"  she 
conscientiously  explained.  "Although  it  might 
not  have  happened  if  I  had  been  altogether  just 
the  same  as  usual,  Anthony." 

They  talked  over  the  affair  at  more  leisure, 
that  evening.  But  they  could  find  no  reason  for 
Lucille  Masters  on 's  insistence  upon  that  brief 
interview  with  Anthony.  Why  had  she  forced 
him  to  attend  her!  He  could  honestly  assure 
Elsie  that  Mrs.  Masterson  had  made  no  attempt 
to  win  him,  back  to  his  former  allegiance ;  rather, 
she  had  taunted  and  antagonized  him.  As  a 
caprice,  they  finally  classified  and  dismissed  the 
episode. 

What  they  did  not  dismiss  from  their 
thoughts  was  the  conversation  they  had  held 
in  the  new  white  house,  the  day  they  had  bought 
the  guitar.  They  did  not  speak  of  Anthony's 
ambitions,  but  Elsie  came  to  speak  often  and 
with  freer  enthusiasm  of  her  native  Louisiana. 
Her  husband  saw  through  the  innocent  ruse 
with  keener  penetration  than  she  recognized, 


270  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

and  so  far  it  failed.  He  understood  that  she 
was  cunningly  preparing  to  make  easy  for  him 
their  way  of  retreat,  in  case  he  lost  his  fight; 
preparing  to  convince  him  that  was  the  way 
she  most  desired  to  go.  He  loved  her  the  bet- 
ter; and  was  the  more  obstinately  determined 
to  force  his  own 


EACH  day  found  Anthony  less  willing  to 
leave  the  place  he  had  chosen.  He  did  not  want 

to  abandon  the  work  commenced  in  the  factory; 
he  had  attained  an  active  personal  interest  in 
his  progress  there.  He  was  well  aware  that  he 
would  soon  know  more  about  some  possibilities 
of  the  mill  than  did  Mr.  Goodwin  himself.  His 
father  never  had  concerned  himself  at  all  with 
such  matters.  Mr.  Adriance  was  the  converg- 
ing-point of  the  many  lines  forming  a  wide- 
spread net  of  affairs  in  which  this  factory  was 
but  one  strand.  He  did  not  even  find  time  to 
notice  Mr.  Goodwin's  advancing  years  and  the 
desire  for  retirement  the  old  man  was  too  proud 
to  voice.  But  the  strand  whose  srnallness  was 
disdained  by  the  greater  Adriance  might  well 
prove  able  to  support  the  lesser. 

An  accident  still  further  determined  his  wish 
to  remain.  One  day  Mr.  Goodwin  came  down 
to  the  lower  room;  occupied  the  chair  in 

271 


273  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Adriance 'a  enclosure  for  a  quarter-hour  and 
watched  the  proceedings.  These  occasional 
yisits  had  done  much  to  establish  firmly 
"Andy's"  authority,  yielding  as  they  did  the 
manager's  sanction  to  the  new  order  of  things. 
But  this  time  Mr.  Goodwin  had  something  to 
say  to  the  young  man  whom  he  and  Cook  had 
'grown  to  regard  as  a  fortunate  discovery  of 
their  own. 

"Andy,"  he  began,  using  the  nickname  as 
Adriance  himself  had  suggested  on  observing  the 
positive  reluctance  with  which  the  old  gentleman 
handled  familiarly  the  revered  name  of  the 
factory's  owner;  "Andy,  to-morrow  there  will 
be  a  meeting  at  the  office  of  Mr.  Adriance  in  New 
York  City;  I  shall  be  present."  He  cleared  his 
throat  a  trifle  importantly.  ' 1 1  shall  have  pleas- 
ure in  mentioning  the  excellent,  the  really  ex- 
cellent, work  you  have  done  here.  I  shall  men- 
tion you  personally. ' ' 

Anthony  carefully  put  down  the  papers  he 
held  and  stood  still,  trouble  darkening  across 
his  face.  He  saw  what  was  coming,  and  he  saw 
no  way  to  stop  it.  He  did  not  want  his  father  to 
learn  of  his  presence  here  from  an  outsider, 


THE  CHALLENGE  273 

or  at  a  public  meeting.  He  wanted  to  tell  Mr. 
Adriance  his  own  story,  with  their  kinship  to 
help  him.  He  wanted  to  explain  Elsie  to  the 
man  who  was-  championing  Mrs.  Masterson ;  he 
wanted  to  tell  him  of  the  new  Adriance  to  come. 
He  hardly  thought  it  possible  that  his  father 
would  deny  him  the  simple  opportunity  he  asked, 
or  try  to  force  the  monstrous  wrong  of  a  sepa- 
ration between  man  and  wife,  if  he  understood. 
But  if  the  bare  fact  that  Tony  was  secretly  in 
his  employ  were  flung  before  him,  Mr.  Adriance 
was  quite  capable  of  regarding  this  as  an  added 
defiance  and  even  mockery  of  himself.  Mr. 
Goodwin's  speech  flowed  placidly  on: 

"Your  abilities  are  really  exceptional,  ex- 
ceptional ;  I  am  sure  that  they  will  be  suitably 
appreciated.  You  are  doing  much  better  work 
than  Eansome.  I  shall  advise  that  I  be  allowed 
to  create  a  new  position  for  you  at  a  new  salary. 
I  should  like  you  to  supervise  the  entire  ship- 
ping department  on  this  floor,  not  merely  the 
trucking." 

"You  are  very  good,"  Adriance  murmured; 
"I  am  not  quite  ready  perhaps  for  that.  By 
the  time  the  next  meeting  is  held " 

18 


274  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"I  have  said  that  you  were  competent,"  Mr. 
Goodwin  reminded  him  with  some  stiffness.  "I 
am  accustomed  to  judge  such  matters,  pray 
recollect.  I  am  quite  sure  Mr.  Adriance  will 
feel  pleasure  that  a  connection  of  his,  even  a 
distant  connection,  should  thus  distinguish  him- 
self from  the  ordinary  employee. " 

"No!  That  is— I  should  wish " 

Adriance  caught  himself  stumbling,  and  col- 
ored before  the  astonished  eyes  of  the  other. 
"I  mean  to  say,  family  influence  cannot  help  me 
in  that  way.  Can  you  place  the  matter  before 
Mr.  Adriance  without  using  my  name?" 

The  older  man  chilled  in  severe  amazement. 
Very  slowly  he  took  off  his  pince-nez  with  fin- 
gers a  trifle  uncertain. 

" Certainly  not,"  he  said,  rigidly.  "Why 
should  I  do  so  remarkable  a  thing?" 

That  challenge  was  not  easily  answered. 
The  silence  persisted  unpleasantly.  Through 
the  breach  it  made  trickled  a  thin  stream  of 
doubt,  which  rapidly  grew  to  a  full  current  of 
suspicion.  Still  Adriance  could  find  nothing  to 
reply,  and  the  situation  became  more  than  em- 
barrassing. Mr.  Goodwin  at  last  arose. 


THE  CHALLENGE  275 

"I  regret  that  I  made  this  proposition,"  he 
said.  "Of  course  it  was  not  in  my  calculations 
that  you  had  anything  to  conceal,  especially 
from  Mr.  Adriance.  We  will  of  course  drop 
the  matter  for  the  present." 

"You  mean  that  I  may  continue  here  as  I 
am?" 

"I  hope  so.  You  will  comprehend  that  it 
becomes  my  duty  to  set  this  matter  before  Mr. 
Adriance.  It  is  not  right  that  I  should  employ 
in  his  name  a  man  who  fears  to  have  his  pres- 
ence here  known  to  his  employer.  I  will  bid 
you  good-morning." 

This  condition  was  worse  than  the  first. 
Recognizing  himself  as  cornered,  Adriance  cast 
a  hurried  glance  around  him,  found  no  one 
within  ear-shot  of  his  little  enclosure,  and  took 
a  step  toward  the  man  about  to  leave  him. 

* '  Wait !  Mr.  Goodwin,  I  am  Tony  Adriance. ' 9 

The  little  old  gentleman  stared  at  him 
blankly. 

"My  father  does  not  know  that  I  am  here, 
no  one  knows  except  my  wife.  Will  you  not  sit 
down  again  and  listen  to  me?" 

Still   Mr.   Goodwin  stared  at  him,  dumb. 


276  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Smiling  in  spite  of  his  vexation  and  anxiety, 
the  young  man  quietly  fronted  the  scrutiny.  He 
;was  quite  aware  that  in  his  working  clothes,  his 
iiands  evidencing  his  winter  of  manual  labor, 
ibis  face  dark  with  the  tan  of  months  of  wind 
and  sun,  he  hardly  looked  the  part  he  claimed ; 
that  is,  if  Mr.  Goodwin  knew  anything  of  the 
former  Tony  Adriance.  But  he  kept  the  candid 
honesty  of  his  eyes  open  to  the  other's  reading, 
and  waited.  Perhaps  if  those  rather  unusual 
blue-black  eyes  he  and  his  father  had  in  common 
had  confronted  Mr.  Goodwin  in  the  brightness 
of  daylight,  he  might  before  this  have  been 
identified.  At  any  rate,  they  convinced  now, 
even  in  the  deceptive  light. 

" There  is  a  resemblance,"  murmured  l£r. 
Goodwin. 

1  '  To  my  father ?  Yes,  I  think  so ;  I  have  been 
told  so." 

"But— why 1" 

One  of  the  usual  interruptions  called 
Adriance  away  before  he  could  reply.  The  old 
gentleman  sat  dazed,  watching  him.  "When  the 
vehicle  had  passed  on,  Adriance  turned  back  to 
the  other  man. 


THE  CHALLENGE  277 

"I  married  without  consulting  my  father, 
last  autumn,"  he  said  quietly.  "Will  you  dine 
with  me  to-night,  Mr.  Goodwin,  at  my  own  house 
up  the  hill,  and  let  me  explain  to  you  what  I  am 
doing  and  why  I  am  doing  it !  If  you  have  any 
doubt  of  my  identity,  you  may  easily  fix  it  by 
asking  my  father  when  you  see  him  to-day 
whether  his  son  is  at  home  or  not." 

Mr.  Goodwin  found  his  voice  with  some  diffi- 
culty. 

"No,  I  would  prefer  to  understand  before 
I  see  Mr.  Adriance.  Come  up  to  my  private 
office  now;  Cook  can  manage  here  for  an  hour 
without  you.  I  am  astounded,  even  bewildered, 
Andy — Mr.  Adriance " 

"Try  'Tony  V'  suggested  the  other  with  his 
sudden  smile. 

So  while  the  indignant  Cook  struggled  with 
double  duties,  Adriance  and  Mr.  Goodwin  sat 
opposite  one  another  in  the  latter 's  private 
office,  and  held  long  converse. 

With  the  exception  of  the  Masterson  side  of 
the  affair,  Adriance  told  the  story  without  re- 
serve. He  hoped  to  win  Mr.  Goodwin's  tem- 
porary silence,  but  he  actually  won  more  than 


278  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

he  had  imagined  possible.  Mr.  Goodwin  was 
excited  and  interested  as  he  had  not  been  for 
years.  When  Adriance  concluded,  the  other  was 
quite  the  most  agitated  of  the  two. 

"You  will  not  tell  my  father  to-day  of  my 
presence  here,  you  will  give  me  time  to  do  so 
my  self  ?" 

"I  will  do  better,"  said  Mr.  Goodwin,  much 
moved,  "I  will  help  you — I  adopt  you,  as  it 
were.  Mr.  Adriance " 

"Tony." 

* '  Tony,  I  will  train  you  to  succeed  me  here. 
I  wish  much  to  retire,  as  I  have  told  you.  My 
wife  and  I — we  have  no  children — have  long 
planned  to  travel;  we  have  even  selected  the 
places  we  would  visit  and  the  routes  we  would 
prefer  to  take.  It  has  been,  I  might  say,  our 
dream  for  years;  but  Mr.  Adriance  would  not 
listen  to  my  desire  to  leave.  He  declares  there 
is  no  one  he  could  trust  in  my  place."  Pride 
colored  the  thin  old  face.  "His  esteem  flatters 
me ;  but  now  I  will  give  him  a  successor  whom 
he  can  trust.  It  is  very  suitable  that  you  should 
have  this  position.  I  will  say  nothing  to  him, 
as  you  wish ;  but  do  you  enter  my  office  here  and 


THE  CHALLENGE  279 

study  the  management  of  this  concern  with  me. 
I  will  myself  take  charge  of  that." 

Astonished  in  his  turn,  and  deeply  touched, 
Adriance  took  the  offered  hand. 

1  i  Of  course  you  know  I  can  find  no  words  of 
sufficient  gratitude,  Mr.  Goodwin.  If  you  will 
indeed  be  so  good  you  shall  not  find  me  lacking 
so  far  as  my  abilities  reach." 

"They  have  reached  quite  far  already,"  said 
his  senior,  drily. 

What  had  appeared  a  calamity  had  become 
strange  good  fortune.  Mr.  Goodwin  readily 
satisfied  any  doubt  he  might  have  felt  of  Tony's 
identity.  Next  morning  when  he  would  have 
gone  to  his  usual  place,  a  clerk  stopped  him  and 
took  him  to  Mr.  Goodwin's  private  office,  where 
a  desk  awaited  him. 

"Of  course  it  is  all  my  name,  or  rather  my 
father's,"  Adriance  said  to  Elsie  that  night. 
"T,here  are  a  score  of  cleverer  men  than  I 
already  there  who  will  continue,  I  suppose, 
plodding  on  as  they  are.  Cook  is  one  of  them. 
But  I  am  not  altruistic  enough  to  throw  away 
the  luck  I  have  been  born  into,  I  am  afraid. 
I  shall  take  all  Goodwin  will  give  me,  and  if 


280  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

my  father  refuses  to  keep  me  there,  at  least  the 
training  will  make  me  more  fitted  to  earn  our 
living  in  some  other  place." 

''Man,  you  have  not  enough  vanity  to  nour- 
ish you  properly,"  Elsie  gravely  told  him. 

Mr.  Goodwin  proved  a  harder  taskmaster 
than  Cook  or  Eansome.  He  entered  upon  the 
education  of  Tony  Adriance  with  an  enthusias- 
tic zest  tempered  with  a  conscientious  severity 
that  made  him  exacting  and  meticulous  in  de- 
tail. Adriance  was  fond  enough  of  the  out- 
doors to  miss  the  motor-truck  at  times — there 
were  even  hours  when  he  thought  wistfully  of 
Russian  Mike ;  but  he  learned  rapidly  under  the 
forced  cultivation.  Now  he  saw  how  superficial 
had  been  the  knowledge  of  the  factory  on  which 
he  had  prided  himself  in  the  shipping  room,  and 
how  absurdly  inadequate  to  the  management  of 
the  great  place  he  would  have  been  had  his 
father  put  it  in  his  hands.  But  under  Mr.  Grood- 
win  he  was  becoming  in  actuality  what  he  once 
had  fancied  himself  to  be.  Incidentally  the 
teacher  and  the  student  grew  cordially  attached 
to  one  another;  and  as  this  attachment  was  ob- 
vious, as  the  new  man  was  known  in  every  de- 


THE  CHALLENGE  281 

partment  where  lie  was  sent  to  gather  experi- 
ence as  "Mr.  Adriance,"  and  as  Mr.  Goodwin 
called  him  "Tony,"  his  identity  was  soon  no 
secret  in  the  factory.  But  the  senior  Adriance 
never  came  in  personal  contact  with  any  mem- 
ber of  the  force  except  Mr.  Goodwin,  so  this  was 
a  matter  of  indifference.  Adriance  continued 
to  be  entered  on  the  books  as  a  chauffeur,  and 
received  the  corresponding  salary. 

The  genuine  chauffeurs  whose  comrade  Andy 
had  been  looked  curiously  after  him  and  whis- 
pered among  themselves  when  he  chanced  to 
pass,  although  his  greetings  to  them  were  the 
same  as  always.  Cook  dropped  the  use  of 
"Andy,"  and  said  "sir"  if  the  young  man 
spoke  to  him  suddenly.  Mr.  Goodwin  advised 
his  pupil  to  let  such  things  pass  without  com- 
ment. Either  Anthony's  position  would  be 
assured  and  demand  such  deference,  or  he  would 
leave  the  factory  altogether ;  in  either  case  pro- 
test would  only  be  hypocritical  or  useless. 

The  time  when  Anthony  should  go  to  his 
father  with  an  account  of  the  affair,  was  in- 
definitely postponed.  The  more  accomplished 
first,  the  better.  Secretly,  both  he  and  Goodwin 


282  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

had  come  to  dread  the  possibility  that  Mr. 
Adriance  would  refuse  to  continue  Anthony  in 
his  position,  either  through  resentment  or  lack 
of  faith  in  Tony's  ability. 

Sometimes  Anthony  felt  a  sharp  misgiving 
that  perhaps  the  very  preparation  that  fitted 
him  for  the  place  he  so  much  desired,  would 
deprive  him,  of  it.  It  was  more  than  possible 
that  Mr.  Adriance  would  keenly  resent  what 
was  being  done  without  his  knowledge.  In  a 
sense  Anthony  was  fortifying  himself  in  his 
father's  own  territory  in  order  to  resist  the 
older  man's  will  in  regard  to  Mrs.  Masterson. 
Anthony  never  learned  to  think  without  vicar- 
ious shame  and  pain  of  the  treachery  his  father 
had  planned  against  Elsie.  He  could  not  recon- 
cile that  idea  with  anything  their  years  together 
had  shown  him  of  his  father.  But  he  worked 
on  and  thrust  from  his  mind  what  he  could  not 
remedy. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  ADBIANCES 

The  weeks  ran  quietly  on,  bringing  spring 
as  the  only  visitor  to  the  little  red  house.  Mas- 
terson  had  been  invited  to  come,  but  he  never 
availed  himself  of  the  invitation.  The  Adriances 
did  not  speak  of  him,  by  tacit  agreement  feign- 
ing to  forget  the  only  painful  evening  they  had 
spent  since  their  marriage. 

The  event  that  fell  like  an  exploding  shell 
into  the  tranquil  household,  shattering  its  accus- 
tomed life  as  truly  as  if  by  material  destruction, 
came  quite  without  warning.  It  chose  one  of  the 
first  evenings  of  April,  when  a  delicate,  pastel- 
tinted  sunset  was  concluding  the  day  as  grace- 
fully as  the  envoi  of  a  poem. 

Elsie  was  making  ready  for  her  husband, 
much  as  she  once  had  described  to  him  a  wife's 
employment  at  this  hour,  and  so  all  uncon- 
sciously had  cleansed  the  temple  of  his  heart, 
thrusting  down  the  false  idols  to  make  a  place 
for  herself.  The  table  stood  arrayed,  she  her- 

283 


284  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

self  was  daintily  fresh  in  attire  and  mood;  the 
little  house  waited,  expectant,  for  the  man's 
return.  The  soft  flattery  of  love  lapped 
Adriance  around  whenever  he  crossed  this 
threshold ;  life  had  taught  him  a  new  luxury  in 
this  bare  school-room. 

Elsie  was  singing,  as  she  went  about  her 
pleasant  tasks  with  the  deft  surety  and  swift- 
ness so  pretty  to  watch;  singing  a  lilting,  incon- 
sequent Creole  chanson,  velvet-smooth  as  the 
sprays  of  gray  pussy-willow  she  presently  be- 
gan to  arrange  in  a  squat,  earthen  jar.  She  was 
happy  with  a  deep,  abiding,  steadfast  content, 
and  a  faith  that  admitted  no  fear. 

She  was  listening,  through  all  her  occupa- 
tions. The  crackle  of  Anthony's  quick,  eager 
step  on  the  old  gravel  walk  would  have  brought 
her  at  once  to  the  door.  But  the  sound  of  an 
automobile  halting  before  the  gate  passed  un- 
noticed ;  many  cars  travelled  this  road,  day  and 
night.  So,  as  before,  Masterson  came  unher- 
alded into  his  friend's  house.  Only,  this  time 
he  found  the  door  open  and  entered  without 
knocking.  When  his  shadow  darkened  across 
the  room,  Elsie  turned  and  saw  her  visitor. 


THE  ADRIANCES  885 

Bather,  her  visitors.  Masterson  carried  in 
the  curve  of  his  arm  a  diminutive  figure  clad 
in  white  corduroy  from  tasselled  cap  to  small 
leggings.  The  child's  dimpled,  ruddy-bright 
cheek  was  pressed  against  the  man's  worn  and 
sallow  young  face,  the  shining  baby-gaze  looked 
out  from  beside  the  fever-dulled  eyes  of  the 
other.  A  chubby  arm  tightly  embraced  Mas- 
terson 's  neck. 

" Holly!"  Elsie  cried,  the  willow-buds  slip- 
ping through  her  fingers.  "Why — how T 

Oh,  how  he  has  grown!  Holly,  baby,  don't  you 
remember  Elsie?  He  does,  truly  does — please 
let  me  have  him!" 

Masterson  willingly  relinquished  his  charge, 
putting  Holly  into  the  eager  arms  held  out,  and 
stood  watching  the  ensuing  scene  of  pretty  non- 
sense and  affection.  He  did  not  speak  or  offer 
interruption.  When  Elsie  finally  looked  toward 
him  again,  recovering  recollection  and  curiosity, 
baby  and  woman  were  equally  rose-hued  and 
radiant. 

"But — how  did  it  happen?"  she  wondered. 
"Did — was  the  agreement  kept,  after  all?  T€ 
Holly  to  stay  with  you,  now?" 


286  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

The  man  met  her  gaze  with  a  strange  blend- 
ing of  defiance  and  entreaty.  Now  she  perceived 
Lis  condition  of  terrible  excitement  and  that  his 
dumbness  had  not  been  the  apathy  she  fancied. 
He  was  on  the  verge  of  a  breakdown,  perhaps 
irreparable  to  mental  health.  Her  question  was 
answered  by  her  own  quick  perception  before 
he  spoke. 

"I  have  stolen  him  No!  I  did  not  steal 
him ;  I  took  my  own.  It  was  in  the  park — he  was 
with  a  nurse,  and  she  struck  him.  She  didn't 
know  me.  I  had  stopped  to  get  a  sight  of  him. 
Well,  that  is  all  Lucille  will  ever  give  him: 
nurses !  She  never  wanted  him,  or  had  time  to 
trouble  about  him.  She  doesn't  like  children. 
He  stumbled,  fell  down,  and  the  woman  slapped 
him — more  than  once." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  sense  of  helpless 
inability  either  to  aid  or  condemn.  Every  con- 
scious fibre  in  her  championed  his  cause,  except 
her  reason.  How  could  this  sick  man  hope  to 
keep  Holly  against  the  world? 

' '  You ? ' '  she  temporized. 

"I've  told  you  what  I  did;  I  took  him  away 
from  her.  '  Tell  Mrs.  Masterson  that  Holly  has 


THE  ADRIANCES  287 

gone  with  his  father,'  I  said.  That  was  all.  I 
carried  him  to  my  car  and  drove  straight  here. 
You  will  keep  him  for  me?  You  and  Tony?  I 
have  got  to  go;  to  get  back  and  make  my  last 
fight." 

Elsie  gently  set  down  the  baby.  She  saw 
what  Masterson  in  his  dazed  and  selfish  absorp- 
tion overlooked :  that  she  and  Anthony  were  to 
be  drawn  into  a  conflict  surely  evil  for  them. 
Mrs.  Masterson  must  resent  this,  and  call  on 
the  law  to  undo  the  kidnapping.  She  herself 
and  Anthony  would  be  dragged  from  their 
happy  obscurity,  their  long  honeymoon  ended. 
More  menacing  still,  Anthony's  position  in  his 
father's  factory  would  be  discovered  and  ex- 
ploited by  the  newspapers,  with  the  probable 
result  that  Mr.  Adriance  would  end  that  situa- 
tion by  dismissing  the  impromptu  employee. 

But  she  never  even  thought  of  sending  Mas- 
terson away.  The  baby  hands  that  grasped  her 
dress  grasped  deeper  at  her  heart.  Also,  this 
man  in  need  was  Anthony's  friend  and  one  to 
whom  he  owed  atonement  for  a  wrong  contem- 
plated, if  not  committed. 

"Of  course  we  will  keep  him,"  she  promised, 


288  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

kindly  and  naturally.  "But  you  must  stay,  too. 
You  are  not  well  and  must  rest  for  a  while — it 
is  absurd  to  speak  of  fighting  when  you  can 
scarcely  stand.  Sit  there,  in  that  arm-chair. 
Presently  Anthony  will  come  home,  then  we  will 
have  supper  and  talk  of  all  this." 

The  serene  good-sense  calmed  and  cooled  his 
fever.  Sighing,  he  relaxed  his  tenseness  of  atti- 
tude. 

"I  must  go,"  he  repeated,  but  without  reso- 
lution. 

For  answer  she  drew  forward  the  chair.  He 
sank  into  it  and  lay  rather  than  sat  among  its 
cushions,  passive  before  her  firmness. 

Elsie  moved  about  the  matter  at  hand  with 
her  unfailing  practicality.  She  took  off  Holly's 
wraps  and  improvised  a  high-chair  by  means  of 
a  dictionary  and  a  pillow.  To  an  accompani- 
ment of  gay  chatter  she  made  ready  her  small 
guest's  evening  meal,  tied  a  napkin  under  the 
fat  chin  and  superintended  the  business  of  sup- 
ping. Hunger  and  sleep  were  contending  before 
the  bread  and  milk  and  soft-boiled  egg  were 
finished.  Afterward,  Elsie  carried  a  very 
drowsy  little  boy  into  her  room  and  made  him 


THE  ADRIANCES  289 

a  nest  in  her  antique-shop  four- posted  bed. 
Masterson  looked  on,  mutely  attentive  to  every 
movement  of  the  two  as  if  some  dramatic  inter- 
est lay  in  the  simple  actions.  When  Elsie  re- 
turned from  the  sleeping  baby,  he  abruptly 
spoke : 

"You  know,  I  only  mean  you  ±o  keep  him 
for  to-night,  not  always.  I  will  come  back  for 
him.  You  know  all  I  planned  for  him  and  my- 
self. This  has  hurried  me,  but  I  have  moneSy 
enough.  Earned  money.  Did  I  tell  you  Mr. 
Adriance,  Tony's  father,  has  offered  me  a  con- 
siderable sum  to  stop  '  making  a  mountebank ' 
of  myself  at  the  restaurant!  No?  He  has.  I 
fancy  her  former  husband 's  occupation  grates 
on  Lucille."  He  laughed,  moving  his  head  on 
the  cushions  of  the  high-backed  chair.  "Well, 
I  refused." 

"Of  course!" 

"You  knew  I  would!  Then  you  grant  me 
more  grace  than  she  did. ' ' 

"She?    You  said  Mr.  Adriance  offered " 

He  glanced  keenly  at  her  face,  then  turned 
his  own  face  aside  that  it  might  not  guide  her 
groping  thought. 


290  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"I  must  go,"  lie  said,  again.  But  he  did  not 
move,  nor  did  Elsie. 

The  pause  was  broken  by  Anthony's  whistle, 
the  signal  which  always  advised  his  wife  of  his 
return. 

But  to-night  it  was  not  the  blithe  hail  of 
custom.  The  clear  notes  were  shaken,  curtly 
eloquent  of  some  anger  or  distress.  Acutely 
sensitive  to  every  change  or  mood  of  his,  Elsie 
caught  both  messages,  the  intentional  and  the 
one  sent  unaware.  Dropping  upon  the  table  a 
box  of  matches  she  had  taken  up,  she  ran  to  the 
door. 

It  opened  before  she  reached  it.  Anthony, 
his  face  dark  with  repressed  anger,  his  move- 
ments stiff  with  the  constraint  he  forced  upon 
them,  appeared  outlined  against  the  soft,  clear 
dusk  of  April  twilight.  He  looked  behind  him, 
and,  holding  open  the  door  of  his  house  formally 
ushered  in  a  guest. 

"My  wife,  sir,"  he  briefly  introduced  to  his 
father  the  girl  who  drew  back,  amazed,  before 
their  entrance. 

Mr.  Adriance  showed  no  less  evidence  of  in- 
ward storm  than  his  son.  But  he  stopped  and 


THE  ADRIANCES  291 

saluted  his  daughter-in-law  with  precise  cour- 
tesy. 

"Mrs.  Adriance,"  he  acknowledged  the  pres- 
entation, his  voice  better  controlled  than  the 
younger  man's. 

"Light  the  lamp,  Elsie,"  her  husband  re- 
quested, dragging  off  the  clumsy  chauffeur's 
gloves  he  had  worn  home.  "It  seems  that  we 
are  under  suspicion  of  child-stealing.  My  father 
has  done  us  the  honor  of  looking  us  up,  to  accuse 
me  of  conniving  at  the  kidnapping  of  Mrs.  Mas- 
terson's  boy.  I  have  not  yet  gathered  exactly 
what  interest  I  am  supposed  to  have  in  the  lady 
or  her  affairs,  or  whether  I  am  presumed  to  be 
engaged  in  a  bandit  enterprise  for  ransom.  But 
I  understand  that  there  is  a  detective  outside, 
who  probably  wishes  to  search  the  house." 

Elsie  made  no  move  to  obey  the  command. 
In  the  indeterminate  light  Masterson's  presence 
had  been  unnoticed,  shadowed  as  he  was  by  the 
deep  chair  in  which  he  sat.  She  was  not  afraid, 
or  bewildered  so  far  as  to  conceive  keeping  him 
concealed,  but  she  was  not  yet  ready  to  act 

"My  son  is  inexact,  as  usual,"  Mr.  Adriance 
gave  her  space,  aiding  her  unaware  by  his  irri- 


292  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

tation.  "Mr.  Masterson  is  known  to  have 
crossed  the  Edgewater  ferry  with  the  child, 
and  we  know  of  no  friends  he  would  seek 
in  this  place  except  Tony  and  you.  His  brain 
is  hardly  strong  enough,  now,  to  plan  any  ex- 
tended moves.  Surely  it  needs  no  explanation 
that  we  wish  to  rescue  a  two-year-old  child  from 
the  hands  of  a  drug-crazed  incompetent  T' 

Elsie  laid  her  hand  over  the  match-box,  won- 
dering that  the  other  two  did  not  hear,  as  she 
did,  the  very  audible  breathing  of  the  man  in 
the  arm-chair. 

"  He  is  hardly  that, '  '  she  deprecated.  ' '  But, 
if  you  find  him,  what  will  you  do ! " 

"To  him?  Nothing.  We  want  the  child. 
If  he  persists  in  annoying  the  lady  who  was  his 
wife,  however,  he  must  be  put  in  a  sanitarium." 

"Elsie,  why  do  you  not  say  that  we  know 
nothing  of  all  this?"  Anthony  demanded,  harsh 
in  his  strong  impatience.  "Why  do  you  feed 
suspicion  by  arguing?  I  don't  say  that  I  would 
not  shelter  Holly  Masterson,  if  he  were  here — 
in  fact,  I  should!  But  I  do  say  that  he  is  not 
here,  sir,  and  I  expect  my  word  to  be  taken. 
Elsie " 


THE  ADRIANCES  293 

His  wife  put  out  her  hand  in  a  quieting 
gesture. 

"Now  I  will  light  the  lamp,"  she  stated,  in 
her  full,  calm  voice. 

Oddly  checked,  the  two  angry  men  stood 
watching  her.  The  flame-touched  wick  burned 
slowly,  at  first,  the  light  rising  gradually  to  its 
full  power ;  the  circle  of  radiance  crept  out  and 
up,  warmed  by  the  crimson  shade  through  which 
it  passed.  It  crept  like  a  bright  tide,  shining 
on  the  figure  of  the  woman  who  stood  behind  the 
table,  rising  over  the  noble  swell  of  her  bosom, 
submerging  the  curved  hollow  of  her  throat 
where  a  small  ebony  cross  lay  against  a  surface 
of  ivory,  flooding  at  last  her  face  set  in  gener- 
ous resolution  and  glinting  in  her  gray,  serenely 
fearless  eyes.  She  looked,  and  was  mistress  of 
the  place  and  situation;  perhaps  because  of  all 
those  present  she  alone  was  not  thinking  of 
herself. 

"You  see,"  she  broke  the  pause,  "there  was 
much  excuse.  It  is  always  wiser  and  kinder  to 
listen  to  the  excuse  for  actions ;  I  think  usually 
there  is  one.  Mr.  Masterson  loves  his  little  son 
very  dearly,  and  that  they  have  been  separated 


294  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

is  terrible  to  him.  But  he  was  patient,  he  did 
not  interfere  until  to-day;  he  saw  Holly  struck 
and  roughly  treated  by  the  nurse.  He  could  not 
bear  that,  and  just  look  on.  No  one  could !  So 
Mr.  Masterson,  obeying  his  first  impulse, 
snatched  up  the  baby,  and  he  did  bring  him 
here.  It  was  only  a  little  while  ago,  Anthony ;  a 
very  little  while. ' ' 

Before  either  Adriance  could  speak,  the  third 
man  lifted  himself  out  of  the  shadows  into  the 
light.  He  was  laughing  slightly,  all  his  reck- 
less, too-feminine  beauty  somehow  restored  as 
he  faced  them. 

"Here  is  your  drug-crazed  incompetent,  Mr. 
Adriance,"  he  mocked.  "Have  you  succeeded 
so  well  in  training  your  own  son  that  you  want 
to  undertake  bringing  up  mine  ? ' ' 

The  insult  changed  the  atmosphere  to  that  of 
crude  war.  Elsie  drew  back,  recognizing  this 
field  was  not  for  her.  Mr.  Adriance  considered 
his  antagonist  with  a  deliberation  cold  and  very 
dangerous. 

"I  think  a  comparison  between  my  son  and 
yourself  is  hardly  one  you  can  afford  to  chal- 
lenge," he  said  bitingly. 


THE  ADRIANCES  295 

' '  Now,  no, ' '  Masterson  admitted.  He  laughed 
again.  ' '  But  a  year  ago — who  was  the  best  citi- 
zen, then?  Fred  Masterson,  with  all  his  short- 
comings, or  Tony  Adriance,  dangling  after  Mas- 
terson's  wife?  Hold  on,  Tony!  I'm  not  saying 
this  for  you ;  you  quit  the  nasty  game  as  soon  as 
you  saw  where  it  was  leading.  I'm  only  ex- 
plaining to  your  father,  here,  that  the  difference 
between  you  and  me  is  chiefly — our  wives.  Of 
course  we  ought  not  to  lean  on  our  women;  we 
ought  to  be  strong  and  independent.  But  I  was 
not  born  that  way,  and  neither  were  you. 
Lucille  wanted  me  down,  and  I  am  down;  Mrs. 
Adriance  wanted  you  up,  and  you're  standing 
up.  Be  honest,  and  out  with  the  truth  to  your- 
self, if  you  never  speak  it,  Tony.  As  for  your 
father,  if  our  guardians  had  started  us  differ- 
ently, it  might  not  have  been  this  way  with  us. 
I  don't  know,  but  that  is  the  chance  I  am  giving 
Holly.  He  shall  not  have  to  pick  up  his  edu- 
cation on  the  road.  I  have  brought  him  here, 
and  here  he  stays  with  Mrs.  Adriance  until  I 
take  him  away  with  me.  She  has  given  me  her 
promise." 

"You  forget  that  the  court  has  given  the 


296  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

child  to  its  mother,"  Mr.  Adriance  reminded 
him,  before  Anthony  could  reply.  "And  let  me 
tell  you  I  have  nothing  except  contempt  for  a 
man  who  foists  off  his  responsibilities  upon  a 
woman's  shoulders." 

1 '  Neither  have  I, ' '  retorted  Masterson.  * '  Did 
you  imagine  I  had  any  vanity  left,  or  that  my 
self-respect  still  breathed?  You  are  dull,  Mr. 
Adriance !  But  all  that  is  aside  from  the  case. 
Holly  stays  here,  unless  Anthony  turns  him  out, 
and  then  he  goes  with  me,  not  with  his  mother. 
Do  you  think  I  fail  to  understand  why  she  wants 
him,  and  you  want  her  to  have  him?  It  is  be- 
cause he  is  a  social  vindication ;  her  possession 
of  him  brands  me  as  the  one  found  lacking  in  our 
partnership.  Well,  he  is  not  to  be  so  sacri- 
ficed." 

1  '  May  I  ask  how  you  intend  to  enforce  this  ? '  * 
"You  may,  and  I  will  tell  you."  He  looked 
return  in  full  measure  of  the  older  man's  irony 
and  determination.  "I  can  enforce  it  because 
you  care  about  the  public  at  large,  and  I  do 
not;  because  it  would  make  a  beautiful  sob 
story :  how  Holly's  reprobate  father  rescued  him 
from  neglect  and  ill-treatment,  taking  him  away 


THE  ADRIANCES  297 

from  a  brutal  nurse  in  the  Park ;  and  how  Mr. 
Adriance,  the  Mr.  Adriance,  pursued  and  re- 
captured the  child.  The  newspapers  would  be 
interested  in  learning  that  Mr.  Adriance  had 
managed  the  whole  Masterson  divorce  case; 
with  his  usual  tact  and  success.  They  might  won- 
der why  he  had  done  it.  I  have  wondered,  my- 
self, you  know.  That  is,  I  might  have  wondered, 
if  I  had  not  known  how  much  you  once  approved 
of  Mrs.  Masterson  as  a  possible  daughter-in- 
law,  before  Tony  disappointed  you  by  marrying 
to  please  himself.  You  have  the  reputation  of 
never  admitting  a  defeat;  and,  after  all,  two 
divorces  are  as  right  as  one !  I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mrs.  Adriance. " 

Elsie  uttered  a  faint  cry,  abruptly  con- 
fronted with  the  hideous  thing  Masterson  had 
shown  her  husband  on  the  night  that  had 
changed  Anthony  from  her  playfellow  to  her 
defender  and  fightingman. 

"Fred!"  Anthony  exclaimed  indignant  re- 
buke, springing  to  the  girl's  side. 

She  caught  his  arm  fiercely,  as  it  clasped 
her.  Suddenly  she  was  one  with  the  men  in 
mood,  burning  with  defiance  and  alert  to  make 


298  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

war  for  her  own.  And  Anthony  was  her  own, 
as  she  was  his.  Pressing  close  to  her  husband 
&he  held  him.  Arrayed  together,  the  three  who 
had  youth  stood  against  the  man  who  had  every- 
thing else. 

But  Mr.  Adriance  had  reddened  through  his 
fine,  gray,  slightly  withered  skin  like  any  school- 
boy. His  dark  eyes  lightened  and  hardened 
to  an  unforgiving  grimness  of  wrath  that 
dwarfed  the  younger  men's  passion  and  made 
it  puerile. 

"You  will  restrain  yourself  in  speaking  of 
the  lady  who  had  the  misfortune  to  marry  you," 
he  signified,  with  a  clipped  precision  of  speech 
more  menacing  than  any  threat.  ''Since  yes- 
terday she  has  been  my  wife." 

Of  all  the  possibilities,  this  most  obvious  one 
never  had  occurred  to  any  of  the  three  who 
heard  the  announcement.  The  effect  held  the 
group  dumb.  All  thought  had  to  be  readjusted, 
all  recent  experience  focussed  to  this  new  range 
of  vision.  In  the  long  pause,  Anthony's  dog 
yawned  with  the  ridiculous  sigh  and  snap  of 
happy  puppyhood;  ticking  clock  and  singing 
kettle  seemed  to  fill  the  room  with  a  swell  of 


THE  ADRIANCES  299 

commonplace,  domestic  sound  derisive  of  all 
complicated  life.  After  all,  men  were  simple, 
and  involved  evil  usually  a  chimera.  Plots  and 
counterplots  resolved  into  a  most  natural  hap- 
pening ;  thrown  into  companionship  with  Lucille 
Masterson  by  Anthony's  flight,  Mr.  Adriance 
had  fallen  in  love.  Probably  at  first  he  had 
aided  her  through  sympathy,  as  Anthony  him- 
self had  done.  There  was  no  mystery  in  the 
rest. 

The  reckless  challenge  and  false  gayety  died 
out  of  Masterson 's  face,  leaving  it  dull  and 
bleak  as  a  stage  when  the  play  is  over  and  the 
artificial  light  and  color  extinguished.  Quite 
suddenly  he  looked  haggard  and  appallingly  ill. 
Circles  darkened  beneath  his  eyes  as  if  dashed 
in  by  the  blue  crayon  of  an  artist.  He  was  con- 
quered; with  his  fancied  right  to  resentment 
and  contempt  he  also  lost  all  animation.  The 
fire  was  quenched,  apparently  forever. 

"I  apologize,  of  course,"  he  said,  his  lifeless 
ease  a  poor  effort  at  his  former  manner.  "Cer- 
tainly I  would  have  been — well,  less  frank,  if  I 
had  understood.  Pray  convey  my  congratula- 
tions to  Mrs.  Adriance.  No  doubt  you  will  be 


300  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

happy,  since  you  can  buy  everything  she  wants. 
But  neither  you  nor  she  can  care  to  keep  Holly 
Masterson  in  your  house.  I  want  him.  After 
all,  I  am  his  father,  you  know,  and  entitled  to 
some  direction  of  his  future.  No!  Come,  I'll 
bargain  with  you  1  Leave  him  here,  and  I  will 
do  what  I  refused  to  do  for  money :  I  will  quit 
public  dancing  and  drop  out  of  sight. " 

The  unexpected  offer  allured.  The  wrath 
in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Adriance  did  not  lessen,  but 
speculation  crept  into  his  regard.  His  abhor- 
rence of  scandal  urged  him  to  grasp  at  this 
escape  from  having  his  wife's  name  constantly 
linked  with  the  escapades  of  her  first  husband. 
There  could  be  no  question  of  Masterson's 
genius  for  spectacular  trouble-making.  More- 
over, Holly  would  still  be  with  the  Adriances, 
so  that  dignity  was  assured.  He  did  not  believe 
that  Masterson  really  intended  to  burden  him- 
self with  the  child.  Lucille  Masterson  had 
formed  his  opinion  of  the  other  man ;  he  credited 
him  with  no  intention  good  or  stable. 

"Of  course  I  must  consult  Mrs.  Adriance," 
he  answered  stiffly.  "But  I  have  no  doubt  that 
she  will  meet  your  wishes  in  the  matter,  since 


THE  ADRIANCES  301 

Tony  is  now  the  child's  step-brother.  That  is, 
if  my  son  and  his  wife  are  willing  to  undertake 
the  charge  you  thrust  upon  them?" 

He  turned  toward  the  two,  as  he  concluded. 
For  the  first  time,  the  Adriance  senior  and 
junior,  really  looked  at  each  other  as  man  at 
man.  For  "Tony"  no  longer  existed;  in  his 
place  was  someone  the  elder  did  not  yet  know. 
Indeed,  he  and  Tony  had  been  merely  pleasant 
acquaintances;  he  and  this  new  man  were 
strangers. 

"Why,  yes,"  Anthony  replied  to  the  in- 
direct question.  He  had  regained  his  com- 
posure as  the  others  had  lost  theirs.  His  cool 
steadiness  and  poise  contrasted  strongly  with 
the  strained  tension  of  his  guests ;  he  spoke  for 
both  himself  and  Elsie  with  the  assured  master- 
fulness she  had  nursed  to  life  in  him  during 
these  many  months.  "We  will  take  charge  of 
Holly  until  his  father  claims  him,  unless  it  ia 
going  to  be  too  difficult  for  me  to  take  care  of 
my  own  family.  As  you  may  see,  sir,  we  are 
not  rich." 

"Is  that  my  affair?" 

"It  has  not  been.    But  it  is  going  to  be." 


302  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"As  a  question  of  money " 

Anthony  checked  the  sentence  with  a  gesture. 
Gently  freeing  himself  from  Elsie's  clasp  upon 
his  arm,  he  drew  from  a  pocket  of  his  rough 
coat  that  notebook  which  had  absorbed  so  many 
of  his  leisure  hours. 

"Let  us  say  a  question  of  business,"  he  sug- 
gested. ' '  Six  months  ago  I  entered  your  employ 
as  a  chauffeur.  You  will  find  my  record  has  no 
marks  against  it.  I  did  not  think  at  that  time 
of  drawing  any  advantage  from  the  fact  that 
the  mill  belonged  to  you ;  I  worked  exactly  as  I 
must  have  done  for  any  stranger.  I  was  not 
late  or  absent,  I  accomplished  rather  more  each 
day  than  the  average  chauffeur  in  the  place. 
Cook  and  Eansome  can  tell  you  whether  I  gave 
them  satisfaction.  I  only  speak  of  this,  sir, 
because  I  should  like  you  to  understand  that  I 
was  in  earnest.  It  was  not  until  months  had 
passed  at  this  work  that  I  began  to  think  of 
changing  my  position.  One  day  Eansome  fell 
sick.  I  asked  for  his  place  to  try  out  a  better 
system  of  checking  the  shipping  that  had  oc- 
curred to  me.  I  was  given  this  at  first  tenta- 
tively, then  permanently.  In  fact,  the  system 


THE  ADRIANCES  303 

worked  so  successfully  that — Mr.  Goodwin  came 
to  see  me."  He  hesitated.  " I  wish  you  would 
ask  Mr.  Goodwin  to  tell  you  himself  something 
of  what  has  happened. ' ' 

"Very  well." 

The  laconic  assent  was  somehow  disconcert- 
ing. 

' '  I  had  to  tell  him  who  I  was, ' '  Anthony  re- 
sumed, with  less  certainty,  "I  had  meant  to 
find  out  what  your  attitude  would  be,  before  that 
happened,  but  I  had  no  choice.  He  was  good 
enough  to  take  me  into  his  office  and  offer  to 
teach  me  the  management  of  your  factory. 
Now " 

"Now,  since  it  is  a  matter  of  business,"  said 
Mr.  Adriance,  dryly,  "what  do  you  want?" 

' '  I  want  a  stranger 's  chance,  and  your  pull, ' ' 
was  the  prompt  return;  Anthony's  smile  flashed 
across  seriousness.  "That  is,  I  want  your  in- 
fluence to  give  me  Mr.  Goodwin's  position  as 
manager,  and  after  that  I  am  willing  to  stand 
on  the  basis  of  my  business  value  to  you.  Good- 
win is  old  and  anxious  to  retire.  If  I  hold  his 
place  for  a  year  and  fail  to  earn  his  salary,  then 
discharge  me  and  I'll  not  complain.  I  know  this 


304  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

end  of  your  business  as  you  do  not,  sir.  You 
are  brilliant,  a  genius  of  big  affairs;  I  have 
discovered  in  myself  a  capacity  for  meticulous 
attention  to  detail.  Will  you  take  this  little 
book  home  with  you?  It  contains  a  collection  of 
notes  and  figures  for  which  you  would  gladly 
pay  an  outsider.  Mr.  Goodwin  and  I  have  found 
the  plant  is  enormously  wasteful;  every  de- 
partment contributes  its  quota  of  mismanage- 
ment, except  the  office  under  his  own  eye. 
I  want  a  chance  to  do  this  work,  to  buy  a  house 
I  like  up  on  the  hill,  here,  and  put  my  delicate 
Southern  wife  in  a  setting  suitable  for  her. 
"Will  you  let  me  earn  all  this?" 

"I  am  not  aware  that  it  has  been  my  custom 
to  interfere  with  you,"  retorted  Mr.  Adriance. 
He  eyed  his  son  with  icy  disfavor.  "Between 
you  and  Mr.  Masterson  it  appears  to  be  estab- 
lished that  I  am  the  typical  oppressor  of  fiction 
and  melodrama.  Kindly  look  at  the  other  side 
of  the  shield.  Last  autumn  you  chose  to  marry 
and  leave  my  house.  You  did  both,  without  pay- 
ing me  the  trifling  courtesy  of  announcing  your 
intentions.  I  knew  of  no  quarrel  between  us. 
The  rudeness  appeared  to  me  quite  without  war- 


THE  ADRIANCES  305 

rant  Nevertheless,  I  tied  all  the  loose  ends 
you  had  left  behind.  I  kept  your  marriage  from 
furnishing  a  sensation  to  the  journals.  The 
lady  who  is  now  my  wife  helped  me  in  convincing 
our  friends  that  your  wedding  was  in  no  way 
unusual  or  unexpected,  if  a  little  sudden,  and 
that  you  had  met  the  young  lady  from  Louisiana 
at  her  house.  In  short,  I  smothered  curiosity, 
a  task  with  which  you  had  not  concerned  your- 
self. You  choose  to  enter  this  place  as  a  truck 
driver.  You  did  not  ask  if  that  were  pleasant  to 
me.  It  was  not,  but  I  made  no  objection.  Oh, 
yes;  of  course  I  have  known  what  you  were 
doing!  Why  should  I  not  know?  Now,  you 
meet  me  with  the  air  of  a  man  hampered  and 
pursued.  Why?" 

"I  was  wrong,"  admitted  Anthony,  simply. 
He  had  flushed  hotly  before  the  rebuke,  but  his 
eyes  met  his  father's  frankly  and  with  a  relief 
that  gladly  found  himself  at  fault  rather  than 
the  other.  '  *  I  did  not  understand.  I  am  sorry. ' ' 

They  shook  hands.  A  constraint  between 
them  was  not  to  be  avoided.  The  marriage  of 
the  older  man  had  thrust  them  apart.  Unfor- 
giveable  things  had  been  said  of  Lucille 


306  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

Adriance;  things  that  had  the  biting  perma- 
nence of  truth. 

"I  will  arrange  for  Goodwin's  retirement," 
Mr.  Adriance  remarked.  "You  will  take  his 
place,  and  this  winter 's  work  may  pass  as  your 
whim  to  study  the  business  from  the  bottom. 
I  spent  an  hour  discussing  your  affairs  with  him, 
on  my  way  here,  to-night.  I  had  called  on  him 
to  ascertain  your  exact  address.  He  has  agreed 
to  remain  as  your  adviser  and  assistant  for  a 
month  or  two,  until  you  have  quite  found  your- 
self. And  of  course  I  will  be  at  your  service. 
That  is  enough  for  this  evening;  I  have  already 
stayed  here  too  long.  Come  to  my  office  to- 
morrow. " 

When  he  turned  toward  the  door,  Elsie  was 
awaiting  him.  A  moment  before  she  had  slipped 
away  from  the  two  men. 

"This  is  the  first  time  you  have  been  in 
Anthony's  house,"  she  said,  her  soft  speech 
very  winning.  "You  aren't  going  without  tak- 
ing our  hospitality?" 

She  held  a  little  round  tray  on  which  stood 
a  cup  and  plate.  The  action  was  gracious  and 
graceful,  quaintly  alien  as  her  own  legends. 


THE  ADRIANCES  307 

Mr.  Adriance  gazed  at  her,  then  bowed  cere- 
moniously, lifted  the  coffee  and  drank. 

"I  think  I  had  forgotten  to  congratulate 
Tony, ' '  he  regretted.  "Allow  me  to  do  so,  most 
warmly. " 

Anthony  closed  the  door  behind  his  guest; 
presently  the  sound  of  a  starting  motor  ruffled 
the  calm  hush  of  the  spring  evening. 

"I  want  my  supper,"  Anthony  announced, 
practically.  "I  shall  not  have  any  more  of 
your  cooking,  Elsie.  What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  your  idle  time — learn  to  play  bridge  ? ' ' 

She  ran  into  his  arms. 


CHAPTEE  XX 

THE  CORNERSTONE 

WHEN  they  looked  for  Fred  Masterson,  he 
was  not  there.  Elsie  remembered,  then,  that 
he  had  gone  into  Holly's  room  while  Anthony 
and  his  father  were  intent  on  each  other.  On 
the  bed  where  the  baby  was  asleep  they  found 
an  envelope  upon  which  was  scrawled  a  message. 

"I'm  off  for  the  present,"  Anthony  read. 
"I'll  drop  in  to-morrow  or  next  day,  when 
Holly  is  awake.  Thank  Mrs.  Adriance  for  me. 
I'm  going  to  be  old-fashioned,  Tony — God  bless 
you  both." 

"He  never  will  come,  I  know  it!"  Elsie  ex- 
claimed, her  heavy  lashes  wet.  "Can't  we  do 
something?  Can't  we  go  after  him?" 

"I  will  go  after  him,"  her  husband  agreed. 
* l  But  not  to-night. ' '  He  crumpled  the  envelope 
and  flung  it  aside.  "Fred  Masterson  is  not 
going  under  without  a  fight.  If  doctors,  sani- 
tariums, his  love  for  Holly  and  our  help  can 
set  him  on  his  feet  again,  he  shall  be  cured  and 

808 


THE  CORNERSTONE  309 

do  all  he  dreams  of  doing.  To-morrow  I  will 
find  him. ' ' 

" Not  to-night!" 

"Not  to-night.  Elsie,  don't  you  under- 
stand? He  loved  his  wife.  If  I  lost  you  so — if 
you  married  someone  else " 

She  put  her  small  fingers  across  his  lips,  still- 
ing the  sacrilege. 

"No !  Do  not  let  our  little  house  even  hear 
you  say  it!" 

"Nor  any  house  of  ours !  To-morrow  I  will 
buy  the  house  we  looked  at  together,  and  you 
shall  have  an  orgy  of  shopping  to  furnish  it. 
Oh,  yes,  you  shall,  and  I'll  help  you.  Have  lots 
of  dark  red  things  and  brown  leather  in  that 
front  room  where  you  told  me  about  Alenya 
of  the  Sea.  And — do  nurseries  have  to  be 
pink?" 

' '  Of  course  not,  foolish  one.  We  might  make 
ours  sunshine-color,  like  the  satiny  inside  of  a 
buttercup  or  a  drop  of  honey  in  a  daffodil.  An- 
thony  " 

"Yes?" 

The  rain-gray  eyes  laughed  up  at  him,  de- 
mure and  daring. 


310  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

"Please,  I  want  a  cloak  all  gorgeous  without 
and  furry  within;  a  shinnnery,  glittery,  useless 
brocaded  cloak  like  those  in  the  cloak-room  of 
that  restaurant.  I — I  just  want  it ! " 

"How  do  you  know?"  he  wondered  at  her. 
"How  do  you  always  know  the  gracious  way  to 
delight  me  most?  What  a  time  we  are  going 
to  have,  girl  I  I'm  going  to  drag  Cook  out  of 
his  rut  and  start  him  up  the  ladder,  for  one 
thing.  If  he  hadn't  given  me  a  chance,  and  then 
brought  Mr.  Goodwin  down  to  see  how  I  handled 
it,  who  can  tell  how  much  I  might  have  missed? 
I  shall  bring  him  here  for  you  to  see,  before  we 
move,  too.  You  won't  mind?" 

"Try  it  and  see." 

"And  we  will  spend  my;  first  vacation  in 
Louisiana!  Can't  we  take  a  trunkful  of  junk 
to  each  girl — including  your  mother?  Let's 
bribe  a  publisher  to  bring  out  the  poetic  drama, 
if  it's  ever  finished.  Ah,  be  ready  to  come  to 
Tiffany's  next  week.  I'm  going  to  buy  you  a 
ruby  as  big  as  the  diamond  advertisements  on 
the  backs  of  the  magazines." 

"Anthony!" 

"Two  of  them!" 


THE  CORNERSTONE  311 


"Dear,"  she  hesitated,  "are  we  going  to 
have  so  much  money?  I  do  not  quite  see " 

Her  husband  looked  at  her,  and  laughed. 

"You  haven't  learned  to  understand  your 
father-in-law.  I  have  not  mastered  that  study, 
myself,  but  I  know  some  branches.  He  is  not  a 
half-way  man.  He  will  expect  Tony  and  Mrs. 
Tony  to  proceed  precisely  as  Tony  used  to  do. 
And  we  will  offend  and  disgust  him  with  our 
small-mindedness  if  we  do  not  take  this  for 
granted.  When  I  remember  the  things  I  allowed 
Fred  to  make  me  believe  of  him !  Elsie,  I  always 
could  have  earned  our  living  somehow ;  I  think 
the  best  news  to-night  was  that  my  father  is  as 
fine  as  I  grew  up  to  believe  him.  By  George,  I 
never  told  him " 

"What,  dear!" 

"Don't  you  know!" 

They  had  almost  finished  their  delayed  sup- 
per, an  hour  later,  when  Adriance  set  down  his 
cup  with  an  exclamation  and  stared  across  the 
table  at  his  wife. 

"I  have  just  thought  of  something!  Now  I 
understand  what  Lucille  Masterson  wanted  of 


312  A  MAN'S  HEARTH 

me,  that  day,  in  the  tea-room.  She  made  me  give 
my  word  never  to  tell  anyone  that  she  had  been 
willing  to  marry  me.  I  was  angry  enough  that 
she  should  suppose  such  a  promise  necessary. 
But  now  I  can  see  the  reason :  she  feared  I  might 
tell  my  father  enough  of  that  affair  to  prevent 
his  falling  in  love  with  her.  You  do  not  know 
him,  Elsie.  If  he  had  suspected  her  attachment 
to  him  was  greed,  and  that  she  had  been  willing 
to  marry  either  Adriance  for  the  Adriance  pos- 
sessions, he  would  have  suffered  nothing  to 
bring  them  together,  nothing  whatever.  I  sup- 
pose she  told  him  she  never  thought  of  me  except 
as  a  pleasant  young  fool.  Think  of  us!"  He 
pushed  back  his  chair  and  took  an  angry  turn 
across  the  room.  l '  Fred,  and  I,  and  my  father — 
all  puppets  for  her  to  move  about ! '  * 

* '  Holly  has  Mrs.  Mastersion,  and  I  have  you, ' ' 
Elsie  demurred,  her  mouth  curling  into  a  smile 
as  her  glance  followed  him.  "And  I  do  not  be- 
lieve she  has  your  father,  Anthony;  I  think  he 
has  her.  You  know — excuse  me,  dear — both  you 
and  Fred  Masterson  were  too  young  and  inex- 
perienced. And  your  father  heard,  in  spite  of 
himself,  Mr.  Masterson 's  story,  this  evening. 


THE  WINTER  WAS  HARD  AND  LONG,  BUT  NEVER  DULL  TO  THEM 


THE  CORNERSTONE  313 

I'm  going  to  borrow  a  sentence  from  Mike: 
'She's  got  her  a  boss.'  Let  the  mills  grind;  we 
know  what  grain  we  put  in  1  Anthony,  did  you 
notice  that  I  gave  your  father  coffee  in  the 
Vesuvius  cupf  If  he  noticed  its  five-cent  atroc- 
ity, he  will  ostracize  me;  and  you  know  who 
bought  it" 

"It  is  a  good  cup!"  He  dropped  into  his 
chair  again  and  leaned  across  the  table  to  catch 
her  hands  in  his.  ' '  Elsie,  we  will  never  sell  this 
house,  or  change  anything  in  it,  will  we?  We 
can  come  back  to  it,  often,  for  just  a  day.  It 
was  the  beginning  place,  however  far  we  go." 

* '  Yes.  Oh,  yes !  Anthony,  our  hearthstone  is 
our  cornerstone;  on  it  we're  going  to  build, 
build  splendidly,  eternally " 

Her  voice  faltered  before  the  vision.  Silent, 
the  two  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  seeing  a 
happiness  strongly  secured,  closing  them  around 
like  folded  wings. 

Funs 


J.     B.     LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY'S 

New     and     Forthcoming    Books 

Peg  Along 

By  GEORGE  L.  WALTON,  M.D.  izmo.  Cloth,  $1.00  net. 
Dr.  Walton's  slogan,  "Why  Worry,"  swept  the  country. 
His  little  book  of  that  title  did  an  infinite  amount  of  good. 
"Peg  Along"  is  the  1915  slogan.  Hundreds  of  thousands 
of  fussers,  fretters,  semi-  and  would-be  invalids,  and  all 
other  halters  by  the  wayside  should  be  reached  by 
Dr.  Walton's  stirring  encouragement  to  "peg  along."  In 
this  new  book  he  shows  us  how  to  correct  our  missteps  of 
care,  anxiety,  fretting,  fear,  martyrism,  over-insistence, 
etc.,  by  teaching  us  real  steps  in  the  chapters  on  work 
and  play,  managing  the  mind,  Franklin's  and  Bacon's 
methods,  etc.,  etc.  Send  coj,  ies  of  this  inspiring  little  work 
to  friends  who  appreciate  bright  wisdom.  Win  them  into 
joyful,  happy  "peggers  along"  to  health  and  happiness. 

Under  the  Red  Cross  Flag 

At  Home  and  Abroad 

By  MABEL  T.  BOARDMAN,  Chairman  of  the  National  Relief 

Board,  American   Red    Cross. 

Foreword  by  PRESIDENT  WOODROW  WILSON. 

Fully  illustrated.    Decorated  cloth.    Gilt  top.    $1.50  net. 

The  American  Red  Cross  and  the  name  of  Miss  Boardman 
have  been  inseparably  connected  for  many  years;  her  own 
story  is  one  of  fascinating  human  interest  to  all  who  feel  a 
bond  of  sympathy  with  those  who  suffer.  To-day  it  is 
the  European  War,  but  in  unforgotten  yesterdays  there 
was  the  Philippine  Typhoon,  the  Vesuvian  Eruption,  the 
Chinese  Famine,  and  almost  countless  other  disasters 
in  which  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  the  Red  Cross  have 
worked  and  met  danger  in  their  effort  to  alleviate  the 
sufferings  of  humanity.  This  is  the  only  complete  his- 
torical work  upon  the  subject  that  has  yet  been  written; 
no  one,  accounting  experience  and  literary  ability,  is 
better  fitted  to  present  the  facts  than  is  the  author. 


Joseph  Pennell's  Pictures 
In  the  Land  of  Temples 

With  40  plates  in  photogravure  from  lithographs.  Introduction 
by  W.  H.  D.  Rouse,  Litt.D.  Crown  quarto.  Lithograph  on 
cover.  $1.23  net. 

Mr.  Pennell's  wonderful  drawings  present  to  us  the 
immortal  witnesses  of  the  "Glory  that  was  Greece"  just 
as  they  stand  to-day,  in  their  environment  and  the  golden 
atmosphere  of  Hellas.  Whether  it  be  the  industrial  giants 
portrayed  in  "Pictures  of  the  Panama  Canal"  or  antique 
temples  presented  in  this  fascinating  volume,  the  great 
lithographer  proves  himself  to  be  a  master  craftsman  of 
this  metier.  The  art  of  Greece  is  perhaps  dead,  but  we 
are  fortunate  in  having  such  an  interpreter.  There  is 
every  promise  that  this  book  will  have  the  same  value 
among  artists  and  book  lovers  as  had  his  others. 
"The  isles  of  Greece,  the  isles  of  Greece! 

Where  burning  Sappho  loved  and  sung," 
have  never  had  a  more  appreciative  and  sympathetic  lover. 

Christmas  Carol 

By  CHARLES  DICKENS.  13  illustrations  in  color  and  many 
in  black  and  white  by  Arthur  Rackham.  Octavo.  Decorated 
cloth.  $1.50  net. 

All  the  praise  that  can  be  showered  upon  Joseph  Pennell 
as  a  master  lithographer,  is  also  the  due  mead  of  Arthur 
Rackham  as  the  most  entrancing  and  mysterious  color 
illustrator  in  Europe.  His  work  is  followed  by  an  army 
of  picture  lovers  of  all  types  and  of  all  ages,  from  the 
children  in  the  nurseries  whose  imagination  he  stirs  with 
the  fiery-eyed  dragons  of  some  fairy  illustration,  to  the 
ambitious  artists  in  every  country  who  look  to  him  as  an 
inspiring  master. 

If  the  decision  had  been  left  to  the  book-reading  and 
picture-loving  public  as  to  the  most  eligible  story  for 
treatment,  we  believe  that  the  Christmas  Carol  would 
have  been  chosen.  The  children  must  see  old  Scrouge 
and  Tiny  Tim  as  Rackham  draws  them. 


Historic  Virginia  Homes 
and  Churches 

By  ROBERT  A.  LANCASTER,  JR.  About  300  illustrations  and 
a  photogravure  frontispiece,  Quarto.  In  a  box,  cloth,  gilt  top, 
$7.50  net.  Half  morocco,  $12.50  net.  A  Limited  Edition  printed 
from  type,  uniform  with  the  Pennells*  "Our  Philadelphia." 

Virginians  are  justly  proud  of  the  historical  and  archi- 
tectural glories  of  the  Old  Dominion.  All  America  looks 
to  Virginia  as  a  Cradle  of  American  thought  and  culture. 
This  volume  is  a  monument  to  Virginia,  persons  and  places, 
past  and  present.  It  has  been  printed  in  a  limited  edition 
and  the  type  has  been  distributed.  This  is  not  a  volume 
of  padded  value;  it  is  not  a  piece  of  literary  hack-work. 
It  has  been  a  labor  of  love  since  first  undertaken  some 
twenty-five  years  ago.  The  State  has  done  her  part  by 
providing  the  rich  material,  the  Author  his  with  pains- 
taking care  and  loving  diligence,  and  the  Publishers  theirs 
by  expending  all  the  devices  of  the  bookmaker's  art. 

Quaint  and  Historic 
Forts  of  North  America 

By  JOHN  MARTIN  HAMMOND,  Author  of  "  Colonial  Man- 
sions of  Maryland  and  Delaware."  With  photogravure  frontis- 
piece and  sixty-five  illustrations.  Ornamental  cloth,  gilt  top, 
in  a  box.  $5.00  net. 

This  is  an  unique  volume  treating  a  phase  of  American 
history  that  has  never  before  been  presented.  Mr.  Ham- 
mond, in  his  excellent  literary  style  with  the  aid  of  a 
splendid  camera,  brings  us  on  a  journey  through  the  exist- 
ing old  forts  of  North  America  and  there  describes  their 
appearances  and  confides  in  us  their  romantic  and  historic 
interest.  We  follow  the  trail  of  the  early  English,  French 
and  Spanish  adventurers,  and  the  soldiers  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, the  War  of  1812  and  the  later  Civil  and  Indian  Wars. 
We  cover  the  entire  country  from  Quebec  and  Nova  Scotia 
to  California  and  Florida,  with  a  side  trip  to  Havana  to 
appreciate  the  weird  romance  of  the  grim  Morro  Castle, 
Here  is  something  new  and  unique. 


The  Magic  of  Jewels  and  Charms 

By  GEORGE  FREDERICK  KUNZ,  A.M.,  PH.D.,  D.SC. 
With  numerous  plates  in  color,  doubletone  and  line.  Deco- 
rated cloth,  gilt  top,  in  a  box.  $5.00  net.  Half  morocco,  $10.00 
net.  Uniform  in  style  and  size  with  "  The  Curious  Lore  of 
Precious  Stones."  The  two  volumes  in  a  box,  $10.00  net. 

It  will  probably  be  a  new  and  surely  a  fascinating  sub- 
ject to  which  Dr.  Kunz  introduces  the  reader.  The  most 
primitive  savage  and  the  most  highly  developed  Cauca- 
sian find  mystic  meanings,  symbols,  sentiments  and,  above 
all,  beauty  in  jewels  and  precious  stones;  it  is  of  this  magic 
lore  that  the  distinguished  author  tells  us.  In  past  ages 
there  has  grown  up  a  great  literature  upon  the  subject — 
books  in  every  language  from  Icelandic  to  Siamese,  from 
Sanskrit  to  Irish — the  lore  is  as  profound  and  interesting 
as  one  can  imagine.  In  this  volume  you  will  find  the 
unique  information  relating  to  the  magical  influence  which 
precious  stones,  amulets  and  crystals  have  been  supposed 
to  exert  upon  individuals  and  events. 

The  Civilization  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria 

By  MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR.,  PH.D.,  LL.D.  140  illustrations. 
Octavo.  Cloth,  gilt  top,  in  a  box,  $6.00  net. 

This  work  covers  the  whole  civilization  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria,  and  by  its  treatment  of  the  various  aspects 
of  that  civilization  furnishes  a  comprehensive  and  com- 
plete survey  of  the  subject.  The  language,  history, 
religion,  commerce,  law,  art  and  literature  are  thoroughly 
presented  in  a  manner  of  deep  interest  to  the  general 
reader  and  indispensable  to  historians,  clergymen,  anthro- 
pologists and  sociologists.  The  volume  is  elaborately 
illustrated  and  the  pictures  have  been  selected  with  the 
greatest  care  so  as  to  show  every  aspect  of  this  civilization,' 
which  alone  disputes  with  that  of  Egypt,  the  fame  of 
being  the  oldest  in  the  world.  For  Bible  scholars  the 
comparisons  with  Hebrew  traditions  and  records  will  have 
intense  interest. 


English  Ancestral  Homes  of 
Noted  Americans 

By  ANNE  HOLLINGSWORTH  WHARTON,  Author  of  "  In 
Chateau  Land,"  etc.,  etc.  28  illustrations.  i2mo.  Cloth  $2.00 
net.  Half  morocco,  $4.00  net. 

Miss  Wharton  so  enlivens  the  past  that  she  makes  the 
distinguished  characters  of  whom  she  treats  live  and  talk 
with  us.  She  has  recently  visited  the  homelands  of  a  num- 
ber of  our  great  American  leaders  and  we  seem  to  see  upon 
their  native  heath  the  English  ancestors  of  George  Wash- 
ington, Benjamin  Franklin,  William  Penn,  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  and  Mothers,  the  Maryland  and  Virginia  Cava- 
liers and  others  who  have  done  their  part  in  the  making 
of  the  United  States.  Although  this  book  is  written  in  an 
entertaining  manner,  and  with  many  anecdotes  and  by- 
paths to  charm  the  reader,  it  is  a  distinct  addition  to  the 
literature  of  American  history  and  will  make  a  superb  gift 
for  the  man  or  woman  who  takes  pride  in  his  or  her  library. 

Heroes  and  Heroines  of  Fiction 

Classical,  Mediaeval  and  Legendary 

By  WILLIAM  S.  WALSH.  Half  morocco,  Reference  Library 
style,  $3.00  net.  Uniform  with  "  Heroes  and  Heroines  of  Fic- 
tion, Modern  Prose  and  Poetry."  The  two  volumes  in  a  box, 
$6.00  net. 

The  fact  that  the  educated  men  of  to-day  are  not  as 
familiar  with  the  Greek  and  Roma-\  classics  as  were  their 
fathers  gives  added  value  to  Mr.  Walsh's  fascinating  com- 
pilation. He  gives  the  nime  and  cetting  of  all  the  any- 
wise important  characters  in  the  literature  of  classical, 
mediaeval  and  legendary  times.  To  one  who  is  accustomed 
to  read  at  all  widely,  it  will  be  found  of  the  greatest  assist- 
ance and  benefit;  to  one  who  writes  it  will  be  invaluable. 
These  books  comprise  a  complete  encyclopedia  of  inter- 
esting, valuable  and  curious  facts  regarding  all  the  char- 
acters of  any  note  whatever  in  literature.  This  is  the 
latest  addition  to  the  world-famous  Lippincott's  Readers' 
Reference  Library.  Each  volume,  as  published,  has  be- 
come a  standard  part  of  public  and  private  libraries. 


A  Wonderful  Story  of  Heroism 

The  Home  of  the  Blizzard 

By  SIR  DOUGLAS  MAWSON.  Two  volumes.  315  remark- 
able photographs.  16  colored  plates,  drawings,  plans,  maps,  etc. 
8vo.  $9.00  net. 

Have  you  heard  Sir  Douglas  lecture?  If  you  have,  you 
will  want  to  read  this  book  that  you  may  become  better 
acquainted  with  his  charming  personality,  and  to  preserve 
in  the  three  hundred  and  fifteen  superb  illustrations  with 
the  glittering  text,  a  permanent  record  of  the  greatest 
battle  that  has  ever  been  waged  against  the  wind,  the 
snow,  the  crevice  ice  and  the  prolonged  darkness  of  over 
two  years  in  Antarctic  lands. 

It  has  been  estimated  by  critics  as  the  most  interesting 
and  the  greatest  account  of  Polar  Exploration.  For  in- 
stance, the  London  Athenaeum,  an  authority,  said:  "No 
polar  book  ever  written  has  surpassed  these  volumes  in 
sustained  interest  or  in  the  variety  of  the  subject  matter." 
It  is  indeed  a  tale  of  pluck,  heroism  and  infinite  endurance 
that  comes  as  a  relief  in  the  face  of  accounts  of  the  same 
qualities  sacrificed  in  Europe  for  a  cause  so  less  worthy. 

To  understand  "courage"  you  must  read  the  author's 
account  of  his  terrific  struggle  alone  in  the  blizzard, — an 
eighty-mile  fight  in  a  hurricane  snow  with  his  two  com- 
panions left  dead  behind  him. 

The  wild  life  in  the  southern  seas  is  multitudinous;  whole 
armies  of  dignified  penguins  were  caught  with  the  camera; 
bluff  old  sea-lions  and  many  a  strange  bird  of  this  new 
continent  were  so  tame  that  they  could  be  easily  ap- 
proached. For  the  first  time  actual  colored  photographs 
bring  to  us  the  flaming  lights  of  the  untrodden  land.  They 
are  unsurpassed  in  any  other  work. 

These  volumes  will  be  a  great  addition  to  your  library; 
whether  larg«  or  small,  literary  or  scientific,  they  are  an 
inspiration,  a  delight  to  read. 


Heart's  Content 

By  RALPH  HENRY  BARBOUR.  Illustrations  in  color  by 
H.  Weston  Taylor.  Page  Decorations  by  Edward  Stratton  Hollo- 
way.  Handsome  cloth  binding.  In  sealed  packet.  $1.50  net. 

This  is  the  tale  of  a  summer  love  affair  carried  on  by  an 
unusual  but  altogether  bewitching  lover  in  a  small  summer 
resort  in  New  England.  Allan  Shortland,  a  gentleman, 
a  tramp,  a  poet,  and  withal  the  happiest  of  happy  men, 
is  the  hero;  Beryl  Vernon,  as  pretty  as  the  ripple  of  her 
name,  is  the  heroine.  Two  more  appealing  personalities 
are  seldom  found  within  the  covers  of  a  book.  Fun  and 
plenty  of  it,  romance  and  plenty  of  it, — and  an  end  full 
of  happiness  for  the  characters,  and  to  the  reader  regret 
that  the  story  is  over.  The  illustrations  by  H.  Weston 
Taylor,  the  decorations  by  Edward  Stratton  Holloway  and 
the  tasteful  sealed  package  are  exquisite. 

A  New  Volume  m  THE  STORIES 
ALL  CHILDREN  LOVE  SERIES 


Heidi 


By  JOHANNA  SPYRI.  Translated  by  ELISABETH  P. 
STORK.  Introduction  by  Charles  Wharton  Stork.  With  eight 
illustrations  in  color  by  Maria  L.  Kirk.  8vo.  $1.25  net. 

This  is  the  latest  addition  to  the  Stories  All  Children 
Love  Series.  The  translation  of  the  classic  story  has 
been  accomplished  in  a  marvellously  simple  and  direct 
fashion, — it  is  a  high  example  of  the  translator's  art. 
American  children  should  be  as  familiar  with  it  as  they 
are  with  "Swiss  Family  Robinson,"  and  we  feel  certain 
that  on  Christmas  Day  joy  will  be  brought  to  the 
nurseries  in  which  this  book  is  a  present.  The  illustra- 
tions by  Maria  L.  Kirk  are  of  the  highest  calibre, — the 
color,  freshness  and  fantastic  airiness  present  just  the 
spark  to  kindle  the  imagination  of  the  little  tots. 


HEWLETT'S  GREATEST  WORK: 

Romance,  Satire  and  a  German 

The  Little  Iliad 

By  MAURICE  HEWLETT.    Colored  frontispiece  by  Edward 
Burne-Jones.     I2mo.    $1.35  net. 

A  "Hewlett"  that  you  and  every  one  else  will  enjoy! 
It  combines  the  rich  romance  of  his  earliest  work  with  the 
humor,  freshness  and  gentle  satire  of  his  more  recent. 

The  whimsical,  delightful  novelist  has  dipped  his  pen 
in  the  inkhorn  of  modern  matrimonial  difficulties  and 
brings  it  out  dripping  with  amiable  humor,  delicious  but 
fantastic  conjecture.  Helen  of  Troy  lives  again  in  the 
Twentieth  Century,  but  now  of  Austria;  beautiful,  be- 
witching, love-compelling,  and  with  it  all  married  to  a 
ferocious  German  who  has  drained  the  cup  and  is  now 
squeezing  the  dregs  of  all  that  life  has  to  offer.  He  has 
locomotor  ataxia  but  that  does  not  prevent  his  Neitschean 
will  from  dominating  all  about  him,  nor  does  it  prevent 
Maurice  Hewlett  from  making  him  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting and  portentous  characters  portrayed  by  the  hand 
of  an  Englishman  in  many  a  day.  Four  brothers  fall  in 
love  with  the  fair  lady, — there  are  amazing  but  happy 
consequences.  The  author  has  treated  an  involved  story 
in  a  delightful,  naive  and  refreshing  manner. 

The  Sea-Hawk 

By  RAPHAEL  SABATINI.    zarno.    Cloth.    $1.25  net. 

Sabatini  has  startled  the  reading  public  with  this  mag- 
nificent romance!  It  is  a  thrilling  treat  to  find  a  vivid, 
clean-cut  adventure  yarn.  Sincere  in  this,  we  beg  you, 
brothers,  fathers,  husbands  and  comfortable  old  bachelors, 
to  read  this  tale  and  even  to  hand  it  on  to  your  friends  of 
the  fairer  sex,  provided  you  are  certain  that  they  do  not 
mind  the  glint  of  steel  and  the  shrieks  of  dying  captives. 


The  Man  From  the 
Bitter  Roots 

By  CAROLINE  LOCKHART.    3  illustrations  in  color  by  Gayle 

Hoskins.    121110.    $1.25  net. 

"Better  than  'Me-Smith'" — that  is  the  word  of  those 
who  have  read  this  story  of  the  powerful,  quiet,  competent 
Bruce  Burt.  You  recall  the  humor  of  "Me-Smith," — 
wait  until  you  read  the  wise  sayings  of  Uncle  Billy  and 
the  weird  characters  of  the  Hinds  Hotel.  You  recall  some 
of  those  flashing  scenes  of  "Me-Smith" — wait  until  you 
read  of  the  blizzard  in  the  Bitter  Roots,  of  Bruce  Burt 
throwing  the  Mexican  wrestling  champion,  of  the  reckless 
feat  of  shooting  the  Roaring  River  with  the  dynamos  upon 
the  rafts,  of  the  day  when  Bruce  Burt  almost  killed  a  man 
who  tried  to  burn  out  his  power  plant, — then  you  will 
know  what  hair-raising  adventures  really  are.  The  tale 
is  dramatic  from  the  first  great  scene  in  that  log  cabin 
in  the  mountains  when  Bruce  Burt  meets  the  murderous 
onslaught  of  his  insane  partner. 

A  Man's  Hearth 

By  ELEANOR  M.  INGRAM.    Illustrated  in  color  by  Edmund 
Frederick.    lamo.    $1.25  net. 

The  key  words  to  all  Miss  Ingram's  stories  are  "fresh- 
ness," "speed"  and  "vigor."  "From  the  Car  Behind" 
was  aptly  termed  "one  continuous  joy  ride."  "A  Man's 
Hearth"  has  all  the  vigor  and  go  of  the  former  story  and 
also  a  heart  interest  that  gives  a  wider  appeal.  A  young 
New  York  millionaire,  at  odds  with  his  family,  finds  his 
solution  in  working  for  and  loving  the  optimistic  nurse- 
maid who  brought  him  from  the  depths  of  trouble  and 
made  for  him  a  hearthstone.  There  are  fascinating  side 
issues  but  this  is  the  essential  story  and  it  is  an  inspiring 
one.  It  will  be  one  of  the  big  books  of  the  winter. 


By  tJu  author  of  " MARCIA  SCHUYLER" 
"LO!  MICHAEL"  "THE  BEST  MAN"  etc. 

The  Obsession  of  Victoria  Gracen 

By  GRACE  LIVINGSTON  HILL  LUTZ.    Illustrated  in  color. 
1 2 mo.    $1.25  net. 

Every  mother,  every  church-worker,  every  individual 
who  desires  to  bring  added  happiness  into  the  lives  of 
others  should  read  this  book.  A  new  novel  by  the  author 
of  "Marcia  Schuyler"  is  always  a  treat  for  those  of  us 
who  want  clean,  cheerful,  uplifting  fiction  of  the  sort  that 
you  can  read  with  pleasure,  recommend  with  sincerity  and 
remember  with  thankfulness.  This  book  has  the  exact 
touch  desired.  The  story  is  of  the  effect  that  an  orphan 
boy  has  upon  his  lonely  aunt,  his  Aunt  Vic.  Her  obsession 
is  her  love  for  the  lad  and  his  happiness.  There  is  the 
never-failing  fund  of  fun  and  optimism  with  the  high 
religious  purpose  that  appears  in  all  of  Mrs.  Lutz's  excel- 
lent stories. 


Miranda 


By  GRACE  LIVINGSTON  HILL  LUTZ.    Illustrated  in  color 
by  E.  L.  Henry.    i2mo.    $1.25  net. 

Nearly  all  of  us  fell  in  love  with  Miranda  when  she  first 
appeared  in  "Marcia  Schuyler,"  but  those  who  missed 
that  happiness  will  now  find  her  even  more  lovable  in 
this  new  book  of  which  she  is  the  central  figure.  From 
cover  to  cover  it  is  a  tale  of  optimism,  of  courage,  of 
purpose.  You  lay  it  down  with  a  revivified  spirit,  a 
stronger  heart  for  the  struggle  of  this  world,  a  clearer 
hope  for  the  next,  and  a  determination  to  make  yourself 
and  the  people  with  whom  you  come  in  contact  cleaner, 
more  spiritual,  more  reverent  than  ever  before.  It  is 
deeply  religious  in  character:  a  novel  that  will  bring  the 
great  spiritual  truths  of  God,  character  and  attainment 
straight  to  the  heart  of  every  reader. 


"GRIPPING"  DETECTIVE  TALES 


By  CAROLYN  WELLS.    Frontispiece.    i2mo.    $1.25  net. 

FLEMING  STONE,  the  ingenious  American  detective, 
has  become  one  of  the  best  known  characters  in  modern 
fiction.  He  is  the  supreme  wizard  of  crime  detection  in 
the  WHITE  BIRCHES  MYSTERY  told  in,—  "THE 
WHITE  ALLEY." 

The  Boston  Transcript  says:  "As  an  incomparable 
solver  of  criminal  enigmas,  Stone  is  in  a  class  by  himself. 
A  tale  which  will  grip  the  attention."  This  is  what 
another  says  :  —  "  Miss  Wells's  suave  and  polished  detective, 
Fleming  Stone,  goes  through  the  task  set  for  him  with 
celerity  and  dispatch.  Miss  Wells's  characteristic  humor 
and  cleverness  mark  the  conversations."  —  New  York  Times. 


The  Woman  in  the  Car 

By  RICHARD  MARSH.    12010.    $1.35  net. 

Do  you  like  a  thrilling  tale?  If  so,  read  this  one  and 
we  almost  guarantee  that  you  will  not  stir  from  your  chair 
until  you  turn  the  last  page.  As  the  clock  struck  midnight 
on  one  of  the  most  fashionable  streets  of  London  in  the 
Duchess  of  Ditchling's  handsome  limousine,  ArthurTowzer, 
millionaire  mining  magnate,  is  found  dead  at  the  wheel, 
horribly  mangled.  Yes,  this  is  a  tale  during  the  reading 
of  which  you  will  leave  your  chair  only  to  turn  up  the 
gas.  When  you  are  not  shuddering,  you  are  thinking; 
your  wits  are  balanced  against  the  mind  and  system  of 
the  famous  Scotlan4  Yard,  the  London  detective  head- 
quarters. The  men  or  women  who  can  solve  the  mystery 
without  reading  the  last  few  pages  will  deserve  a  reward,  — 
they  should  apply  for  a  position  upon  the  Pinkerton  force. 


THE  NOVEL   THEY'RE  ALL    TALKING  ABOUT 

The  Rose -Garden  Husband 

By  MARGARET  WIDDEMER.    lUustrated  by  Walter  Biggs. 
Small  i2mo.    $1.00  net. 

"A  Benevolent  Friend  just  saved  me  from  missing  'The 
Rose-Garden  Husband.'  It  is  something  for  thanks- 
giving, so  I  send  thanks  to  you  and  the  author.  The 
story  is  now  cut  out  and  stitched  and  in  my  collection 
of  *  worth-while '  stories,  in  a  portfolio  that  holds  only 
the  choicest  stories  from  many  magazines.  There  is  a 
healthy  tone  in  this  that  puts  it  above  most  of  these 
choice  ones.  And  a  smoothness  of  action,  a  reality  of 
motive  and  speech  that  comforts  the  soul  of  a  veteran 
reviewer.'*  From  a  Letter  to  the  Publishers. 

Edition  after  edition  of  this  novel  has  been  sold,  surely 
you  are  not  going  to  miss  it.  It  is  going  the  circle  of  family 
after  family, — every  one  likes  it.  The  New  York  Times, 
a  paper  that  knows,  calls  it  "a  sparkling,  rippling  little 
tale."  Order  it  now, — the  cost  is  but  one  dollar. 

The  Diary  of  a  Beauty 

By  MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL.   Illustrated  by  William  Dorr 
Steele.    I2mo.    $1.25  net. 

From  the  assistant  postmistress  in  a  small  New  England 
village  to  the  owner  of  a  great  mansion  on  Fifth  Avenue 
is  the  story  told  not  as  outsiders  saw  it,  but  as  the  beau- 
tiful heroine  experiences  it, — an  account  so  naive,  so 
deliciously  cunning,  so  true,  that  the  reader  turns  page 
after  page  with  an  inner  feeling  of  absolute  satisfaction. 

The  Dusty  Road 

By  THERESE  TYLER.    Frontispiece  by  H.  Weston  Taylor. 
i2mo.    $1.25  net. 

This  is  a  remarkable  story  of  depth  and  power, — the 
struggle  of  Elizabeth  Anderson  to  clear  herself  of  her 
sordid  surroundings.  Such  books  are  not  written  every 
day,  nor  every  year,  nor  every  ten  years.  It  is  stimulating 
to  a  higher,  truer  life. 


RECENT  VALUABLE  PUBLICATIONS 

The  Practical  Book  of  Period 
Furniture 

Treating  of  English  Period  Furniture,  and  American  Furniture 
of  Colonial  and  Post-Colonial  date,  together  with  that  of  the 
typical  French  Periods. 

By  HAROLD  DONALDSON  EBERLEIN  and  ABBOTT  Mc- 
CLURE.  With  225  illustrations  in  color,  doubletone  and  line. 
Octavo.  Handsomely  decorated  cloth.  In  a  box.  $5.00  net. 

This  book  places  at  the  disposal  of  the  general  reader  all 
the  information  he  may  need  in  order  to  identify  and  clas- 
sify any  piece  of  period  furniture,  whether  it  be  an  original, 
or  a  reproduction.  The  authors  have  greatly  increased 
the  value  of  the  work  by  adding  an  illustrated  chrono- 
logical key  by  means  of  which  the  reader  can  distinguish 
the  difference  of  detail  between  the  various  related 
periods.  One  cannot  fail  to  find  the  book  absorbingly 
interesting  as  well  as  most  useful. 

The  Practical  Book  of  Oriental  Rugs 

By  DR.  G.  GRIFFIN  LEWIS,  Author  of  "  The  Mystery  of  the 
Oriental  Rug."  New  Edition,  revised  and  enlarged.  20  full- 
page  illustrations  in  full  color.  93  illustrations  in  doubletone. 
70  designs  in  line.  Folding  chart  of  rug  characteristics  and  a 
map  of  the  Orient.  Octavo.  Handsomely  bound.  In  a  box. 
$5.00  net. 

Have  you  ever  wished  to  be  able  to  judge,  understand, 
and  appreciate  the  characteristics  of  those  gems  of  Eastern 
looms  ?  This  is  the  book  that  you  have  been  waiting  for, 
as  all  that  one  needs  to  know  about  oriental  rugs  is  pre- 
sented to  the  reader  in  a  most  engaging  manner  with  illus- 
trations that  almost  belie  description.  "From  cover  to 
cover  it  is  packed  with  detailed  information  compactly 
and  conveniently  arranged  for  ready  reference.  Many 
people  who  are  interested  in  the  beautiful  fabrics  of  which 
the  author  treats  have  long  wished  for  such  a  book  as 
this  and  will  be  grateful  to  G.  Griffin  Lewis  for  writing  it." 
—The  Dial 


The  Practical  Book  of  Outdoor 


f^rrvw/ino- 

VJ  1  U  W  1  1  Ig 


NEW  EDITION 

REVISED  AND  ENLARGED 


By  GEORGE  C.  THOMAS,  JR.  Elaborately  illustrated  with 
96  perfect  photographic  reproductions  in  full  color  of  all  varieties 
of  roses  and  a  few  half  tone  plates.  Octavo.  Handsome  cloth 
binding,  in  a  slip  case.  $4.00  net. 

This  work  has  caused  a  sensation  among  rose  growers, 
amateurs  and  professionals.  In  the  most  practical  and 
easily  understood  way  the  reader  is  told  just  how  to  propa- 
gate roses  by  the  three  principal  methods  of  cutting, 
budding  and  grafting.  There  are  a  number  of  pages  in 
which  the  complete  list  of  the  best  roses  for  our  climate 
with  their  characteristics  are  presented.  One  prominent 
rose  grower  said  that  these  pages  were  worth  their  weight 
in  gold  to  him.  The  official  bulletin  of  the  Garden  Club 
of  America  said:  —  "It  is  a  book  one  must  have."  It  is 
in  fact  in  every  sense  practical,  stimulating,  and  suggestive. 

The  Practical  Book  of  Garden 
Architecture 

By  PHEBE  WESTCOTT  HUMPHREYS.  Frontispiece  in  color 
and  125  illustrations  from  actual  examples  of  garden  archi- 
tecture and  house  surroundings.  Octavo.  In  a  box.  $5.00  net. 

This  beautiful  volume  has  been  prepared  from  the 
standpoints  of  eminent  practicability,  the  best  taste,  and 
general  usefulness  for  the  owner  developing  his  own  prop- 
erty, —  large  or  small,  for  the  owner  employing  a  profes- 
sional garden  architect,  for  the  artist,  amateur,  student, 
and  garden"  lover.  The  author  has  the  gift  of  inspiring 
enthusiasm.  Her  plans  are  so  practical,  so  artistic,  so 
beautiful,  or  so  quaint  and  pleasing  that  one  cannot  resist 
the  appeal  of  the  book,  and  one  is  inspired  to  make  plans, 
simple  or  elaborate;  for  stone  and  concrete  work  to  embel- 
lish the  garden. 


Handsome  Art  Works  of  Joseph  Pennell 

The  reputation  of  the  eminent  artist  is  ever  upon  the 
increase.  His  books  are  sought  by  all  who  wish  their 
libraries  to  contain  the  best  in  modern  art.  Here  is  your 
opportunity  to  determine  upon  the  purchase  of  three  of 
his  most  sought-after  volumes. 

Joseph  PennelPs  Pictures  of  the  Panama  Canal 

(Fifth  printing)  28  reproductions  of  lithographs  made  on  the 
Isthmus  of  Panama  between  January  and  March,  1912,  with 
Mr.  Pennell's  Introduction  giving  his  experiences  and  impres- 
sions, and  a  full  description  of  each  picture.  Volume  7K  x  10 
inches.  Beautifully  printed  on  dull  finished  paper.  Lithograph 
by  Mr.  Pennell  on  cover.  $1.25  net. 

"Mr.  Pennell  continues  in  this  publication  the  fine  work 
which  has  won  for  him  so  much  deserved  popularity.  He 
does  not  merely  portray  the  technical  side  of  the  work,  but 
rather  prefers  the  human  element." — American  Art  News. 

Our  Philadelphia 

By  ELIZABETH  ROBINS  PENNELL.  Illustrated  by  Joseph 
Pennell.  Regular  Edition.  Containing  105  reproductions  of 
lithographs  by  Joseph  Pennell.  Quarto.  7J4  x  10  inches.  552 
pages.  Handsomely  bound  in  red  buckram.  Boxed.  $7.50  net. 
Autograph  Edition.  Limited  to  289  copies  (Now  very  scarce). 

Contains  10  drawings,  reproduced  by  a  new  lithograph  process,  in 

addition  to  the  illustrations  that  appear  in  the  regular  edition.  Quarto. 

552  pages.    Specially  bound  in  genuine  English  linen  buckram  in 

City  colors,  in  cloth  covered  box.    $18.00  net. 

An  intimate  personal  record  in  text  and  in  picture  of 

the  lives  of  the  famous  author  and  artist  in  a  city  with  a 

brilliant  history,  great  beauty,  immense  wealth. 

Life  of  James  McNeill  Whistler 

By  ELIZABETH  ROBINS  and  JOSEPH  PENNELL.     Thor- 
oughly revised  Fifth  Edition  of  the  authorized  Life,  with  much 
new  matter  added  which  was  not  available  at  the  time  of  issue 
of  the  elaborate  2  volume  edition,  now  out  of  print.      Fully 
illustrated  with  97  plates  reproduced  from  Whistler's  works. 
Crown  octavo.    450  pages.      Whistler  binding,  deckle  edges. 
$3.50  net.    Three-quarter  grain  levant,  $7.50  net 
"In  its  present  form   and  with  the  new  illustrations, 
some  of  which  present  to  us  works  which  are  unfamiliar 
to  us,  its  popularity  will  be  greatly  increased." — Inter- 
national Studio, 


The  Stories  All  Children  Love  Series 

This  set  of  books  for  children  comprises  some  of  the  most 
famous  stories  ever  written.  Each  book  has  been  a  tried  and 
true  friend  in  thousands  of  homes  where  there  are  boys  and 
girls.  Fathers  and  mothers  remembering  their  own  delight 
in  the  stories  are  finding  that  this  handsome  edition  of  old 
favorites  brings  even  more  delight  to  their  children.  The 
books  have  been  carefully  chosen,  are  beautifully  illus- 
trated, have  attractive  lining  papers,  dainty  head  and  tail 
pieces,  and  the  decorative  bindings  make  them  worthy  of 
a  permanent  place  on  the  library  shelves. 

TT    •  J  •     By  JOHANNA  SPYRI. 
rleial    Translated  by  Elisabeth  P.  Stork. 

The  Cuckoo  Clock      By  MRS.  MOLESWORTH. 

The  Swiss  Family  Robinson    G.  E.^MITTON. 

The  Princess  and  the  Goblin  MA^DONALJX 

The  Princess  and  Curdie   MA<?DO°NALIX 

At  the  Back  of  the  North  Wind  MACDONALIX 

A  Dog  of  Flanders    By  "OUIDA.» 

Bimbi    By"ouiDA." 

Mopsa,  the  Fairy     By  JEAN  INGELOW. 

The  Chronicles  of  Fairyland  By  FERGUS  HUME. 

Hans  Andersen's  Fairy  Tales 

Each  large  octavo,  with  from  8  to  12  colored  illustrations. 
Handsome  cloth  binding,  decorated  in  gold  and  color. 
$1.25  net,  per  volume. 


DC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  088  580     6 


